


Famderlinde

by famderlinde



Series: Famderlinde [2]
Category: Red Dead Redemption
Genre: F/M, Family, Family Feels, Family Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-10-05 06:00:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 24,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17319329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/famderlinde/pseuds/famderlinde
Summary: Collection of stuff for my Famderlinde AU- in which instead of the gang eventually spiralling downwards, the birth of Sean and Karen's daughter Rose (from my other work "A Rose in the Brush") puts the gang on track- some of them get the baby bug, wanting to start families of their own. Others are just happy being a part of what is becoming more and more of a happy family.Ultimately deciding to give up a life of crime, they settle down onto a large plot of land and create what could be considered a small village of their own, raising their families together and enjoying their time not constantly being on the run.





	1. Risk of loss- Van Der Lindes

**Author's Note:**

> The first few chapters of this will be re-uploads of things I've already written, because instead of having them all be separate stories I'm deciding I want them all to be together! Sorry if you get a bad case of deja vu reading through this

“Miss O’Shea. What a...pleasure, to see you again.”

“Wish I could say the same, Dutch.”

Dutch clasped his chest in mock offense. “Not even false pleasantries anymore? How distant we’ve become.” He was laying on the charm real thick, but Molly was quick to see through it. She didn’t want to be here, face to face with her former partner. Truth be told he didn’t care much for seeing her either, but held much less resentment about their breakup. After all, he wasn’t the one who got told a seemingly endless stream of false promises for years on end.

“She’ll be here soon.” Molly responded before Dutch could even ask. “Wanted to go into Valentine on the way here. I can’t stand going through there anymore, so I said I’d go on ahead.” She scowled. “Didn’t anticipate you waiting on the front lines. Would rather have gone to Valentine, if I’m being honest.” She crossed her arms and flipped her hair back over her shoulder, staring wistfully down the path she came.

Dutch rolled his eyes at her theatrics. He was definitely one to put on a show but this was even too much for him. “Whatever you say, Miss O’Shea.” His voice was flat as he leaned back against the wooden fence behind him, pulling out a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it.

“Oh, and Dutch?”

“What?”

“That’s soon to be  _Mrs._ Not miss.” Dutch couldn’t help but choking on his smoke, having been caught off guard by what Molly was declaring.

“You’re marrying that pompous buffoon?” He didn’t even try to mask his shock or disdain, and it made Molly smirk triumphantly. In response she took a few steps away from her carriage towards him and stuck out her left hand. On her ring finger was a large, ostentatious ring. Undoubtedly expensive.

“Oh, and it goes without saying- you’re  _not_ invited to the wedding. But Hosea is, if you want to extend the invitation. I really quite liked Mr.Matthews. He always paid attention to me when you wouldn’t.” His brow furrowed in anger at that last comment and what it insinuated. She loved those rare moments when she could truly push his buttons- they didn’t come frequently as he usually was able to manage himself quite well. So when they did arise, she reveled in them. Unfortunately she didn’t get to bask in the glory for too much longer, as they heard the sound of a second carriage coming up the path. It pulled up behind Molly’s, and the driver went around to open the door for the occupants. Out stepped a well-groomed man dressed extravagantly, followed by a young girl with jet black hair. Molly quickly went over to them both, kissing him first and then leaning down to plant a kiss on her forehead as well. Dutch waved to the girl and she gave him an unenthusiastic wave in return, which stung a little. Especially when the three of them all embraced into one large hug, laughing at something the man had said that was apparently hilarious.

“Well, aren’t you all just a picture-perfect family unit?” Dutch said sarcastically, throwing his cigarette to the ground and stomping it out. With a large, cheesy smile, the man came over and stuck out his hand, which Dutch reluctantly shook. Molly quickly ushered the young girl around to the back of the carriage where they went to retrieve her things.

“Mr.Van Der Linde! How nice to see you yet again! I see my dear Molly has shared our good news with you. We are to be wed! Isn’t that spectacular!” His smile was smug as he looked down on Dutch (in both senses of the word). Jeremiah Collingsway- he was tall, having a few inches on Dutch. They had similar ways of dressing, but he always looked more polished and posh than the former outlaw. He was dripping in gold, from the chains around his neck to rings on his fingers. He was the image of what Dutch once thought he looked like in his head, but now made him sick to his stomach.

“Yes, Mr.Collingsway. She has in fact shared your...good news.” His voice was insincere and Jeremiah knew that, but chose to ignore it in favour of using the opportunity to boast a bit more.

“Isn’t it marvelous? We’re going to Paris- to be wed, that is. Have you ever been to Paris, Mr.Van Der Linde?” He asked, specifically knowing that the closest Dutch had ever or would ever come to Paris was Paris, Texas. “It’s beautiful, especially during the Springtime. Her whole family is going to be in attendance, as will mine. And,” He chuckled. “I suppose a bit of yours as well.”  Dutch’s eyes traveled back to the carriage behind Jeremiah, where the girls were coming back around. The men ceased their conversation to help grab the bags and bring them up the drive to the house while the ladies followed behind at a leisurely pace. Dutch turned around and stared longingly at the young girl, knowing he won’t be able to spend any time with her until Molly and her new fiance left.

And, fortunately for him, that they soon did. In their typical fashion they dragged out their goodbyes, with Mr.Collingsway hugging and being a tad bit more affectionate with the girls than Dutch preferred to be subject to.

“Goodbye, my darling. We’ll be back in a couple weeks to get you. I’ll miss you bunches my little honeybee!” Molly said in a singsong voice, going nose to nose with the girl and covering her face with kisses. Jeremiah hugged them both before walking back down the drive with Molly on his arm, waving the entire way.

After what seemed like an eternity they pulled away in one of the carriages, with the other one following behind. This left Dutch and the girl standing alone together. He knelt down and patted her on the shoulder, and she gave him a sheepish smile.

“Eleanor, my sweet. I’ve been missing you a whole lot these days.”

“Yeah, uh… me too, dad.” Her response seemed less than genuine, and it caused Dutch to frown. She turned away from him and climbed the porch stairs, heading into the house. She grabbed her bags and immediately bee lined for the stairs.

“I’m going to put my stuff in my room!” She shouted out, running up before he had a chance to protest. He sighed and plopped down at the living room table, knowing she probably wouldn’t be down for a while. He drummed his fingers on the table and waited for her anyways, thinking to himself how pathetic he must look- sitting by himself, staring up at the stairs, waiting for his daughter to wanted little to do with him. Eventually he heard the door open, but didn’t even look to see who it was, too busy brooding. The eventual chuckle that came from whoever finally had him shifting his gaze to see Hosea standing across the room.

“So, Eleanor’s managed to ditch you already, eh?” He said jokingly, earning an exasperated sigh from Dutch.

“That she has, that she has. I swear she can’t even stand to be around me for a few minutes any more.”

“Oh c’mon Dutch, she’s always slow to warm up. Give her some time, I’m sure she’ll come around.” Hosea took a seat next to Dutch at the table and gave him an encouraging smile.

“Yeah, she’ll come around and like you. She’ll come around and like Arthur. Hell, she’ll probably come around and like  _BillI._ But she has no time for her dear old dad.” Dutch spat, sounding utterly defeated. Hosea hated seeing him like this- he was always so confident- except about being a father. His relationship with his daughter was...distant, to say the least. It didn’t help that she spent most of her time with her mother and soon to be step-father, where they tried to put Dutch as far out of her mind as possible. Hell, if it were up to them they wouldn’t have him in her life at all. Dutch was the one who had really pushed to be a part of Eleanor’s life but he found himself wondering if that was a mistake- if he should have just let them take her away and live a lavish life in the city without having to come visit him for a few weeks at a time in the middle of yeehaw central.

“Don’t talk like that, Dutch. The girl loves you, she does. She just has her own way of showing it.”

Dutch snorted. “Yeah, hiding out in her room like I’m a masked gunman come to rob the place is a real way to say ‘I love you, daddy!’”

“You know that’s not what I mean, you sourpuss.” Hosea was about to say more before he heard the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs. “Here she comes.” He whispered to Dutch, who in turn stood up to greet her.

“You all settled in, sweetheart?”

She nodded. “Yeah, daddy…” Her eyes shifted over to Hosea and lit up. “Papa Hosea!” She said enthusiastically, running over to greet the older man. He pulled her into a hug and Dutch watched, feeling conflicting emotions surge through him. On one hand he felt jealous that she wasn’t anywhere near that happy to see him, but on the other hand he was just pleased that she was happy at all.

“How are you, my dear?” Hosea laughed as he hugged her. He held her out at arms length and took a look at her. “Why, look at you! You’re growing like a weed! Soon you’re gonna be taller than your old man!” He said with a chuckle, trying to bring Dutch into the conversation. Dutch took the hint and piped up.

“You’re right, Hosea! Hey, Eleanor, let’s compare your height on the wall, see how much taller you’ve grown since last time.” He smiled almost pleadingly at the girl, trying to engage her. He felt his heart swell when she grinned at him, quickly running over to the wall that was littered with notches. She stood up straight against it and Dutch marked her height, noticeably higher than the one below it.

“Look at that, hon!” He showed her and her eyes lit up, clapping excitedly at seeing how much she’d grown.

“This is the best news ever! I’m getting so big! Soon I’ll be bigger than them!”

“Bigger than who?” Hosea inquired.

“The twins!” She huffed out, referencing James and Maxwell, Mary Beth and Kieran’s oldest sons. “They’re always teasin’ me about being short, even though I’m older than them! Now I’m gonna be the biggest!” She stood triumphantly, her hands on her hips and chest jutted out. Dutch looked down at her warmly, and listened intently as she rambled on about her endeavor to be the tallest kid in camp. Eventually Hosea slowly started to back out of the room, letting the two spend some time alone. Dutch gave him an appreciative nod before going back to listening.

They talked for a while; once that initial barrier was down it all seemed to come flooding out of her. Eleanor talked about her friends at home, her pet cat, her favourite pair of shoes. Anything that came to mind, really- and Dutch was happy to listen to it all. Until, that is, she started talking about her mother’s upcoming nuptials.

“Mommy says that at the wedding I get to be the flower girl! Isn’t that cool?”

“Yeah, it sure is.” He tried his best to hide the disdain in his voice, but it seemed he didn’t do a good enough job.

“Dad, do you hate mommy?” His eyes widened in shock at the unexpected question.

“Honey, no!” He lied. “Of- of course I don’t! Mommy and I just… don’t get along that great. The only thing we have in common these days is you.”

“Oh, okay then…” Her voice trailed off and she looked...disappointed.

“So, are you uh, excited to see Paris?” Dutch asked with a phony smile, trying his best to ignore the rotten taste in his mouth. He just wanted to change the subject to something that she might be more excited about. He figured he had found a good topic when her eyes lit up.

“Oh yeah! It’s gonna be so fun being in Europe!" She smiled from ear to her, beautifully showcasing her missing front tooth before out of nowhere her face dropped again. "Although.....I’m gonna miss being here a whole lot…”

“Well you’re only gonna be gone what, a couple weeks? It won’t be that bad.” 

“No, I overheard Jeremiah saying we’re gonna be gone a real long time.”

“To Paris?” Dutch asked suspiciously.

“No, to Ireland I think. We’re gonna go there after the wedding. Mommy said that grandpa bought us a house there or something.” Not quite realizing what she was saying, she continued to ramble on. Dutch could feel himself seething with rage.

She was going to take her away.

They were going to go to Paris for the wedding and not come back. Molly and Jeremiah were going to move to Ireland, a whole world away from the States. Away from him.   
And like  _hell_ he was gonna let that happen.


	2. Risk of loss- Van Der Lindes 2

Dutch tried to enjoy the weeks to come as much as he could and have some good times with his daughter. But he couldn’t ignore the looming possibility that these may be the last memories he gets to make with her. Eventually three weeks had passed and on the morning of what was to be Molly’s return, Dutch woke with a heavy heart. He got himself dressed and ready for the day, walking downstairs to see Eleanor at the table eating breakfast. It only took a glance into the kitchen to see who had prepared her the meal, with Hosea just finishing up two more plates- one for him and one for Dutch.

“Mornin’, Dutch. Sleep well?” Hosea didn’t even bother trying to explain himself or why he was there- he was  _always_ there, and Dutch enjoyed his company. Although not even the company of Mr.Matthews could alleviate the dread he felt for the day to come.

“Fine. What about you, doll?” He kissed the young girl on the head as she scarfed back her eggs, as if they were the last ones she ever ate. She always loved Hosea’s cooking- even more than Pearson’s… not that anybody would ever tell him that.

“I slept ok, daddy.”

“Just ok?” He took a seat down next to her and started eating his own breakfast, Hosea doing the same.

“Yeah, I’m sad. I don’t wanna go! I mean...I miss mommy a lot, but I like the ranch. I like spending time with you, and papa Hosea, and the others!” Dutch smiled fondly at her words and it put him at ease, even if only just a bit. Part of him was afraid that she wouldn’t actually mind moving to Ireland; maybe it’s what she wanted. So hearing her say she didn’t want to leave pleased him- made him feel like he deserved to be in her life.

The three ate and made idle chit chat for a while longer before they heard a rap on the door. Dutch excused himself to answer it, greeted with Arthur on the other side.

“Arthur, my boy! To what do we owe the pleasure?”

“ ‘Fraid there ain’t much pleasure to be had, Dutch. I was out in town with Lenny and saw Molly in town. We came back as soon as we saw ‘er, but she looked like she wasn’t stayin’ too long.”

Dutch’s brow furrowed. “She wasn’t supposed to be coming to get Eleanor until this evening, if I recall correctly.”

“Yeah, well, look like she has other plans. Just thought I’d warn ya.” And with a nod goodbye Arthur turned on his heels and went back to join Lenny, who was waiting patiently for him- apparently the two of them hadn’t finished whatever they had set out to do. Dutch had to admit he was touched, that the boys would derail their plans to race back and warm him about Molly’s impending arrival. But he didn’t have the time to think about the loyalty of his friends- he had to figure out what he was going to do.

“Shit.” He cursed under his breath, feeling his heart starting to race.

“Is everything okay, Dutch?” Hosea called back from the dining room. Instead of yelling out to answer him, Dutch walked back towards where the two were left eating breakfast- well, where Hosea was left eating breakfast. Eleanor had finished a while ago.

“Yeah, it was just Arthur.” Eleanor perked up at hearing the name of one of her favourite uncles.

“Uncle Arthur! What did Uncle Arthur say, daddy? Is he still here?” She smiled hopefully up at her father.

“No, sorry sweetpea. He had to go back and help Uncle Lenny with something-”

“Uncle Lenny too?? I wanna go!!” Dutch mentally facepalmed himself for bringing up Lenny- her  _other_ favourite uncle. She babbled on for a bit about wanting to go and spend time with them, wanting to know what they were up to, excitement twinkling in her eyes. Dutch felt like a jerk for having to cut her off and squash her excitement.

“Sorry, honey. Uncle Arthur and Lenny have to to adult stuff, borin’ stuff.” He saw her face drop in disappointment. “But, Arthur  _did_ tell me that… your mother might be comin’ early to see you!” He tried to feign excitement as best he could, in order to lift her spirits. She looked mildly consoled, obviously excited to see her mother but still wanting to join her favourite uncles on their adventure.

“Oh, isn’t that exciting!” Hosea chimed in, in an attempt to lift the mood. “Eleanor, why don’t you go upstairs and get your stuff ready to go?” She nodded at him, never one to contest papa Hosea. As soon as she left the room the demeanors of both men dropped.

“So, what are you going to do?” Hosea asked, concern evident on his features. He was one of the few people Dutch had told about Molly’s plans to move to Ireland after the wedding, along with Arthur.

Dutch stroked his chin and scowled. “I don’t know. Talk to her, I suppose.”

“Yeah-” Hosea chuckled. “Because conversations between the two of you have always gone well in the past.” Dutch thought back to the many shouting matches between him and Miss O’Shea, both from when they were together and after. Hosea was right- they were never great at communicating...well, it’s more like  _Dutch_ wasn’t great at communicating- at least with her.

But he supposed if his daughter meant anything to him at all, he’d have to learn.

He practiced what he was going to say to her in his head over and over, pacing around the kitchen as he did so. Hosea just watched him from the side, letting him work through his own problems without disturbing. Unfortunately he didn’t stay undisturbed for long, the distinct sound of a horse and carriage soon becoming audible from outside.

“Well, I guess it’s go time.” Dutch sighed. “Can you go up and help Eleanor with her things? Keep her distracted, don’t want her coming down in the middle of what may turn out to be… an  _unpleasant_ conversation between her mother and I.” Hosea nodded, retreating upstairs without another word. With one last deep breath Dutch headed out the door, greeted with the sight of Molly just exiting her carriage. If he was grateful for anything in that moment, it was that her gaudy fiance was nowhere in sight.

“Hello, Mrs.O’shea.”

“Dutch.” Her voice was dry, emotionless. “Where’s Eleanor?”

“She’s upstairs, getting her things. You can’t expect the poor girl to be ready now, especially since you weren’t even supposed to  _be_ here until tonight.” He narrowed his eyes at her and couldn’t hide the disdain in his voice. She merely smirked at him in response.

“Oh, is that so? So Arthur didn’t let you know I was comin’?” Dutch opened his mouth to say something but she cut him off. “Yes, I saw him. Arthur Morgan is a hard one to miss, he is. Especially with boy wonder at his side there. Now, I’ll ask ye again- where is she? I want to get goin’.”

Dutch snorted. “Yeah, I bet you do. Awful eager, aren’t you Molly?” She cocked a brow at him as she approached the porch.

“What are ye gettin’ at there, Dutch?”

“Oh, play innocent why don’t you?” He felt the anger boiling up inside him, needing a moment of pause or else he felt like he was going to snap. “Why don’t you come inside and we’ll talk?” He said quickly, opening the door to let her in. She eyed him suspiciously, as if it was a trap, but went inside anyways. Her eyes shifted around the place, obviously unimpressed. Still, she took a seat on the living room sofa after he gestured her to.

“So now you want to  _talk,_ huh? We were together for years and you never wanted to  _talk._ What do you want? Money? Get in trouble with the law or something? Going back to your old ways?” Dutch clenched his fists, feeling his nails dig into the palm of his hand. He couldn’t water down or hide the anger that came out of him next.

“What I  _want_ is for you to not take my damn daughter away!” He screeched at her, his voice cracking terribly as it always did when he became emotional. Molly had nothing to say, do Dutch took it as an opportunity to elaborate. “What I  _want_ is for you to not scheme to set out for Europe- with OUR child- and never return! What I  _want_ is to not have to hear my own daughter casually tell me that I may never see her again, without even understanding what she’s saying!”

Dutch could feel the heat rising to his face; which was flushed beet red. Molly sat there in stunned silence, blinking rapidly as the gears turned in her head trying to come up with a response,  _any_ response.

“Dutch…” Was all she managed to sputter out.

“Is that all you have to say for yourself?” They locked eyes and Molly shook her head.

“No- no.” Her eyes dropped to the ground and her shoulders drooped. “I’m sorry, Dutch. That you had to find out like that.”

“So it’s true?” He quickly interjected.

“Yes- well, kind of. I planned on tellin’ ya, honest. Really I did- it wouldn’t be fair not to… I just didn’t know how…” Dutch felt himself softening at her words- she seemed… sincere. She was never that good of an actress.

“Would you really do that to me, Molly? Do you really hate me that much? I know I wasn’t a great man to you, but I’m better to her.” In a rare moment of vulnerability Dutch opened his heart to her- pleaded with her.

“I know Dutch, I know. You’re a good father… But you’re right, you weren’t a good man to me. And every day I’m in this country reminds me of that. Of all the promises you made me for the opportunities this land had to offer. They’re all I can think about...I want to go home, Dutch. This country has never been a home to me. I miss my family, my friends. I want to bring Eleanor there… have her experience the beauty of Ireland- be able to grow up there like I did.”

“I understand what you’re saying Molly… but you know that ain’t fair to me.” His voice was barely above a whisper.

She gave a lopsided grinned and nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I know. It’s been eatin’ me up- it’s why I wanted to get out of here so quickly with her. If I stayed too long, looked at you with ‘er...I didn’t think I’d be able to go through with it.” At that he looked up at her hopefully, and she huffed at his puppy-dog eyes. “You should see the look on yer face right now- pathetic.” She said with a laugh, no malice in her words.

“I’m willing to be pathetic if it means I won’t lose her.” Dutch declared firmly, his tone sincere and his eyes not leaving hers. She smiled lightly at him and reached out to hold his hand.

“I have a compromise- we half and half her.”

“We what?”

“We take her half and half- she lives with us in Ireland for half the year, and comes back to stay here on the ranch with you for the other half. It’s a long trip to make- we couldn’t manage our current arrangement.” She gave him a moment to digest the suggestion. He felt conflicted.

On one hand, he felt triumphant- he had called Molly out, she admitted it, and they reached a middle ground. But a part of him also felt scared. He had never had custody of her for six months consistently- it was only ever for a couple weeks at a time. Six months solid seemed...daunting. Dutch wasn’t a man who was afraid of much, but he felt his palms sweating as he thought more and more about it. But it wasn’t just the on time that put a pit in his stomach...not seeing his daughter for six months at a time as well also made him unsure. Sensing his uneasiness, Molly squeezed his hand.

“Dutch, it’ll be okay. She loves you and she loves this place. And don’t forget, you wouldn’t be going at it alone- you have a whole camp full of people to help you. I really feel like this arrangement would be what’s best for us. It lets her have a more stable life than uprooting her every few months would. We have to think about what’s best for her.” Dutch nodded in agreement. This wasn’t about him, or Molly. It was about Eleanor.

So, Dutch agreed to the arrangement. Of course, they talked to little Eleanor about the whole thing first- and she was ecstatic. The thought of getting to live overseas, where her mother came from, made her happy. But what made her EXTRA happy was the idea that she also would be able to come back to the USA and spend more time on the ranch, with her extended family and most importantly with her father than she’s ever gotten to in the past.

And after a goodbye hug, the two girls were off to Europe. They had decided to split her January-June and July-December, to make it easier on them all. Dutch had quickly called dibs on the latter half of the year, mostly for the idea of spending the holiday season with her.

After they left, Dutch took a look at the calendar. April 24th. He smiled, thinking about how soon she would be returning.

Dutch had a plan- a plan to be the best father he can be.


	3. Arthur's missing- Marstons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Screw Gavin... where the hell is Arthur?

“ARTHUR! YOU GET YOUR ASS HERE RIGHT NOW!” John shouted out the window, frustration evident in his voice. He waited for a moment, eyes scanning the outside and seeing nothing. He mumbled something angrily to himself, before turning back on his heels into the house.

“Jack? Jack!” He called out for his oldest son, who sauntered in a minute later upon hearing his father’s beckoning.

“Yes,  _sir_?” The boy asked sarcastically. John huffed at the attitude.

“I think I liked it better when you’d say that sincerely, son.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you did.” John sighed at Jack’s continued sass. Those teenage hormones were really hitting him full force. It didn’t help that John had caught him right in the middle of a book.

“Do you know where Arthur is? I’ve been screamin’ for him for way too damn long, and for nothin’. He’s really trying my patience.” Jack merely chuckled at his father’s frustration, finding the way Arthur riled him up to be endlessly amusing. But, he was not without a heart, and decided to lend a helping hand.

“Haven’t seen him. Uncle Hosea was by not too long ago with Lenny, try asking them. They probably have some idea between the two of them.” Without even waiting a response Jack turned and left the room again. John made a mental note to teach his son some manners when he had the time before pulling on his boots and running out to find Hosea. He didn’t have to go far, seeing the greying man talking and laughing nearby with Lenny.

“Gentlemen!” He called out, drawing their attention. “I’m looking for Arthur-”

“We know.” Lenny cut him off with a laugh. “I swear, everybody from here to Saint Denis could hear you hollerin’ out that window!”

“Well, everybody except Arthur, apparently.” Hosea added. “Not to fear, John. We may have the lead you’re looking for.”

A wave of relief washed over John. “Thank god. Where’d you see the bastard off to?”

“Down by the river, of course. Saw him heading down there with a ...friend.” Hosea emphasized the last word, and John knew he was talking about immediately. “Boy knows if he wants to avoid you he just has to stay close to the water, eh John?” Hosea gave him a cheeky grin as the two guys laughed, much to John’s chagrin.

“Ha ha, you’re both fuckin’ comedians. If you don’t mind now, I’ll be taking my leave.” John whistled for his horse, who quickly ran to his side. He hopped up and rode away, hearing the men yell a few things along the lines of “don’t fall in” and “we’re not fishing you out”. He ignored their comments and kept going, fearing he’d say something he’d regret if he opened his mouth. He was definitely not in the mood to be teased right now.

He tried his best to make his way down to the stream closest to their land- admittedly only vaguely remembering the way from the few times he’d been down there fishing with Jack (which he hadn’t done last for a few years on top of it). Hosea was right- he had picked the perfect place to go if he didn’t want John to find him. Eventually (after a few wrong turns), John came upon the river. From where he was he couldn’t see who he was looking for, but he  _could_ see the aforementioned friend Hosea had said he taken off with, seemingly fishing. He tried to approach quietly; find who he was looking for before being seen- but without even turning around, he had seen John coming.

“Quite a rare sight to see you anywhere near the water, ain’t it Marston?” He said with a hearty laugh.

“Where is he?”

“Who?”

“Arthur. Hosea told me he saw you guys slinkin’ on down here, by the water. Tryin’ to avoid me?” John’s voice was defensive, angry. The man at the riverside simply snickered at him.

“Hard to get fishin’ done on land. Think even you’re smart enough to know that.”

“Well maybe don’t take my boy fishin’ no more and then it wouldn’t be a problem!” Dropping his rod to the ground, the man turned around to face John, his brows furrowed in frustration.

“Well maybe if you took him yourself, he wouldn’t have to come crawlin’ over askin’ me to take him!”

“You don’t have to say yes when he asks!” John screeched.

“Well I ain’t gonna say no! He gets enough of that from you!” John was so angry he couldn’t even formulate a coherent response, instead lunging forward to grab the man by the collar- even though he knew it was a battle he would absolutely lose. John was quickly overpowered; pinned down and restrained.

“Let- let me go, Morgan! We ain’t kids anymore- this isn’t funny!” John struggled against him, trying to break free. Before anybody could say anything more, they heard the ruffling of bushes and a small voice.

“Papa?” Both men turned around to see the small boy watching them, rod in hand- with an actual fish wriggling on the end of the line to boot. Taking advantage of him being caught off guard, John broke free from his restraints and scrambled over to the boy.

“Arthur… Did you catch that all by yourself?” John felt a surge of pride as he looked down at his youngest son.

“I did! Well… Uncle Arthur showed me how.” The boy’s eyes travelled back to the older Arthur, who stood there silently. “Are you mad at me, papa? That I asked uncle Arthur to take me fishing and not you? You looked pretty mad...”

“No- no… I’m not mad at ya, son. I was just… frustrated with your uncle, for not telling me first. If you wanted to go fishing, I would’ve taken ya! I wasn’t busy today.” His words were sincere, but the boy didn’t look convinced.

“But I ask you all the time… you always say no. I’m sorry I didn’t ask you if I could go with somebody else but I was afraid you’d say no to that too.” John’s heart broke at the sorrow in his son’s voice. It made him realize that even though he was nowhere near as poor a father as he was when Jack was young, he still wasn’t close to perfect. He was still having other people- namely Arthur- pick up the slack for him.

He put a hand on the kid’s shoulder and squeezed lightly. “Tell you what. How about I head back home, grab my rod, and join the two of you. Maybe even ask Jack if he wants to join us.” John smiled fondly at his son, who quickly returned it. He nodded excitedly in excitement at the idea of having a fishing day with his father, brother and favourite uncle.

John went back to his horse and gave a small wave to the two boys, promising to be back soon. As he rode out, he could hear little Arthur excitedly babbling to big Arthur about how happy he was that his dad wanted to fish with them. It made his heart feel warm and put him in a good headspace… that was until he got back to the house, and was tasked with trying to convince Jack to drop his book for an afternoon and come fishing.

Now  _that_ was a struggle and a half...


	4. Her father- Morgans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He was never a confident man, Arthur Morgan. Not in being a son to his father figures, a brother to his fellow gang members or a father... to children past or present.

_ Dear Arthur, _

_     I’m so sorry. I thought this time we...I could make it work. I thought you had changed- and you have. But maybe I haven’t. Seeing the little village you guys had all set up for yourselves- all the children running around, the happy families- my heart was taken. I saw all the girls… Karen, Mary-Beth, Tilly, Abigail, as mothers. Even the other outsiders to the gang like Charlotte and Emma seemed so happy. I wanted that. The same happiness.  _

_ But that wasn’t what I got. _

_ And I’m sorry that I don’t have it. I expected that these past few months would have been filled with happiness, and fulfillment. But they haven’t been, and I’ve felt so guilty. I know you’ve noticed, and I’ve tried to just pass it off on being tired. But it’s more than that. And I just can’t sit around and wait to be happy anymore. _

_ So I’m leaving. Both of you. But I don’t expect you to take this burden on by yourself- drop Evan off at my parents’. They will be happy to take her until I return...if I return. I don’t know what the future holds. I’m still trying to figure it all out. But I love you, Arthur. And I love our daughter. I want the best for both of you. So please, despite all the problems you’ve had with my parents (namely my father) in the past, trust them enough now to care for her. They’ll give her everything they have. I never expected you to go this alone, Arthur. You may not be the terrible man you think you are, but I know you’re no saint.  _

_ Maybe one day we’ll be reunited. Until then, stay safe and be well. I love you. _

_ Love, _

_ Mary.  _ _ _

_ \---------------------------------- _

“You readin’ that damn thing again?” Arthur was snapped back to reality as he turned around to see Sadie standing in the doorway.. “You’re only drivin’ yourself crazy, scannin’ every word over and over again. What are you lookin’ for, Arthur?”

“I...I don’t know.” He let out a big sigh before flopping down into a chair in the corner of the room. He rested his forearms on his thighs and slouched forwards, still grasping the letter in his hands. “Just… somethin’ I thought of, this time ‘round. Word that was gettin’ to me.  _ Burden. _ ”

“Burden?” Sadie repeated.

“Yeah… burden. ‘But I don’t expect you to take this  _ burden  _ on by yourself’.” He recited the line from the letter without even looking, a sign of how many times he’d read it through by this point. “I just don’t get it.”

“What is there not to get, Arthur?” Sadie was annoyed at him, back again putting way to much thought into something that didn’t deserve it. She had a half a mind to burn it while he was sleeping, but knew that probably wasn’t the healthiest coping mechanism. 

“I… I just don’t get why she thinks Evan is a burden. Why… why she’d think she’d be a burden on me.” His voice was barely above a whisper and a mix of sadness and confusion. It broke Sadie’s heart, to hear how devastated Mary had left him. 

“She just didn’t know how lucky she had it, Arthur.” She gave him a pat on the shoulder but he couldn’t even look up to meet her eye, the just flickered between the letter and the floor. 

“Lucky… sure.” He sounded conconvinced, and Sadie had no doubt he was thinking all kinds of terrible things about himself in his head. Sadie only knew one way to cheer him up when he was this down, and she quickly exited the room to grab it. Arthur sat, stewing in his emotions until he heard her returning footsteps. He looked up to see her and couldn’t help the smile that crept onto his face. 

“Now, Arthur… does this look like a burden to you?” Sadie held out little Evangeline to her father, still groggy from being woken up. He chuckled lightly at her.

“Now, what are you doin’ out a’ your bed, darlin’?” He immediately stood up and reached for her, Sadie more than willing to pass her over. “Your nap time isn’t over for another twenty minutes.”

“Well, I reckoned she missed you. She can get twenty extra minutes tonight to make up for it.” She crossed her arms and watched as Arthur held the small girl, cradling her close to him. 

“No, then her whole schedule would be messed up…” He muttered, more to himself than to her, and Sadie rolled her eyes. 

“I can’t believe that Mary ever thought that lil Evan would have it better off with her parents than with you. She really must have lost her mind.” 

“You...you really think so?” His voice was that familiar mix of insecure and desperate that she- along with everybody else at camp- had come to know since Evangeline’s arrival. He was always questioning whether or not he was a good father- especially after what happened with Isaac and ESPECIALLY after Mary left. He was stuck in between his desire to be better and his fear that he wasn’t good enough. To comply with Mary’s wishes and simply hand over the baby to her grandparents, or to step up and be the father for his daughter that he never got to be for his son. The pure and blinding love he had for his girl had so far kept him at bay, kept him going. But more and more often he had been doubting himself, revisiting that  _ damn  _ letter- wondering if he made the right choice. 

“I think so, Dutch thinks so, John thinks so… Hosea, Lenny, Charles, Javier, Karen, Mary-Beth, Tilly-”

“Okay, okay. No need for roll call, now. I get it.” 

“No, I don’t think you do.” Her voice was stern, demanding. It made Arthur peel his eyes off his daughter for a moment to look into hers. “If you ‘got it’, you wouldn’t be so damn mopey all the time! You wouldn’t be rereadin’ that letter every day, as if it’s gonna say something different- tell you what you wanna hear. Well, news flash- it’s not, Arthur. Mary… Mary ain’t important no more. What’s important is that little girl-  _ your  _ little girl.” They both took a moment to look back down upon her, and Sadie watched how her eyes scanned the room until Arthur looked at her- then, it was as if he were the only thing in the world. And the feeling was mutual when he looked at her. 

“I love her, Sadie. So much. I just want what’s best for her.” He said after a moment of silence. 

“I know you do. And… and she knows you do, too. And that’s why you are what’s best for her. Because nobody will ever love her as much as you- not her grandparents… not even her mother. She’s stuck with you, cowpoke….And she’s real lucky.” 

With near tears in his eyes Arthur leaned forward to pull Sadie in a hug- a bit awkward with the baby between them, but full of love and appreciation. 

“Thank you, Sadie. For everythin’ you do for us. You’re the best friend a man could ask for.” Sadie smiled fondly at his words, always pleased to hear him reiterate that she was his best friend. Some of the other gang members had always thought they’d be a good pair; eventually fall in love- especially after Mary was no longer in the picture. But neither of them saw the other that way- Sadie still thinking Jake was her one true love, and Arthur knowing that Evangeline is his.

“Likewise, and don’t worry… I won’t tell John that I’m actually your best friend.” She gave him a sly grin and he swatted her playfully. 

“Aw, hell- you better not! I’m not pickin’ favourites again- you’re  _ both  _ my best friends. And Evan’s godparents, so eventually when I kick the bucket you’re gonna have to learn how to get along n’ raise her!” 

“Well, I have a feeling by the time your stubborn ass ends up leavin’ this Earth, Evan’ll be old enough to handle herself. You’re not allowed to go until you’re weathered, grey, and more useless than Uncle.” 

“Well alright then.” He said with a laugh, until Evan started fussing in his arms. Seeing this as good a time as any to bounce, Sadie said her goodbyes for now and took off back to her own cabin, narrowly avoiding the inevitable screeching. 

But Arthur could never avoid it, and nothing made him happier. Every cry, every sleepless night and every moment of frustration reminded him that he was there. And so was she. And he was a father- her father. And nobody could take that away from him… not this time. 


	5. The hunter becomes the accidentally hunted- The Smiths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles' hunting trip doesn't go to plan when he's the one who ends up with a bullet

_ BANG! _

Charles instinctively whipped his head back in the direction of the loud noise, taking his eyes off the rather impressive buck he had been stalking. Hearing it too, the prized animal took off in the opposite direction. He wasn’t too bothered about that- considering the fact that he thought he was alone out in these woods, and the sound of what seemed to be a gunshot directly contradicted his previous assumptions. And the fact that it sounded rather close was… alarming, to say the least. He slung his bow onto his back and moved slowly in the direction from which it came.

_ BANG! _

Even closer that time. He reached for the pistol on his hip, traipsing silently in hopes to get a jump on whoever seemed to be shooting in his direction. He moved along seemingly without making a sound at all, until a third gunshot rang out. 

_ BANG! _

That one was definitely the closest yet- so close, in fact, that it was inside him! The shot entered in through his left thigh and he couldn’t help the pained sound that exited his mouth as he stumbled, catching himself on a tree. He prepared himself for the defensive, his cry surely giving his location away to whoever was there with him. Eventually he heard a series of hurried footsteps and the voice of what seemed to be… a woman?

“Hello? Hello? Where are you- are you alright?” Her voice was panicked, scared. Normally Charles would just keep quiet, wait to get the upper hand- but in his current state, he wasn’t accomplishing much. Especially since Taima was still a ways away and whistling for her would surely signal where he was to the woman looking for him anyways. So, he decided to have faith that this wasn’t somebody here to kill him, and answered her calls.

“I’m- I’m over here!” The footsteps stopped momentarily before picking up speed, reaching him much faster than he had expected. He was able to get a good look at the person who had shot him- a woman around his age, maybe a bit older. She carried a rifle at her side, not in any sort of position to attack at all. He immediately surmised that she wasn’t a threat, and felt himself relax a bit. 

“Oh my god- sir, I’m so sorry! Your leg...” She slowly started to approach Charles, her eyes glued to the blood seeping from his thigh. “I- I live not too far from here. Come with me, I’ll patch you up.” She held her hand out to him and he eyed her sceptically. Even if she  _ had  _ shot him, most women wouldn’t be so ready to invite a man into their home out in the middle of nowhere. He guessed that either the guilt was overwhelming, she was especially naive or, similarly to how he had done, determined he wasn’t a threat either. Caring more about the pain rather than the reasoning behind her actions, he accepted her invitation and swung his arm around her shoulder. He didn’t anticipate her being able to support much of his weight- but she was stronger than she looked. He limped alongside her as she returned him back to a small secluded cabin. She quickly rushed him inside and sat him down at the kitchen table.

“You stay right here, I’ll be back in a sec.” She took off towards one of the other rooms, and he took the moment alone to look around the place. It was cozy, he thought. And judging by some of the things he saw around- table settings for one, only womens shoes by the door- he garnered that she lived alone. 

Soon she was rushing back into the room, arms full of bandages, towels and various glass bottles. He couldn’t help but smile despite the pain at the comical way things seemed like they were about to slip and fall before righting themselves, only to sway and waver again. She eventually dropped everything onto the table before pulling up the chair next to him. 

“Does it hurt too bad?” She grabbed one of the bottles and dabbed it out onto a small hand towel, waiting for his permission before dabbing it on his wound. He gave her a small nod and she pressed it down firmly onto him. He hissed lightly at the stinging, but tried to take some comfort in the thought that this was helping him.

“Could be worse.” He sighed out once the initial pain subsided. She gently blotted at his leg, grabbing another towel to wipe away blood. “Thank you for treating me, Miss…”

“Balfour… Charlotte, Balfour. Just Charlotte is fine.” She flickered her eyes up to look at him and smiled, which he returned. “And sorry for shooting you in the first place, mister…”

“Smith.” He said. “But call me Charles. What were you doing out there anyways?” She looked sheepish at his question, and averted her gaze.

“I was… well, I was hunting, I must admit.” He cocked a brow at her response.

“Hunting? If you don’t mind my asking, what were you hunting for, exactly? I hope you don’t plan on making me your next meal.” He tried to pass that off as a joke but he wasn’t being fully facetious- he’d seen much weirder things out and about on his travels. One particularly disturbing pig farm sprung to mind, and he tried his best to push the memories to the back of his head while simultaneously scanning the room for anything he could use as a weapon. 

“No- no! Of course not… I was actually trying to hunt down, well, literally anything  _ aside  _ from you. Particularly a rabbit this time around. But I would have settled for the stray bullets hitting a fox, a deer… at this point I’d even eat a snake. The only thing I can’t say I’m desperate enough to eat is a man- and of course my shots end up hitting the only one for miles.” 

“So not much of a hunter then, I take it?” She chuckled at his question as she continued to work on treating his leg. 

“That easy to tell? No, unfortunately not. Never much of an outdoorswoman at all, really…”

“Not much of an outdoorswoman? Then why are you living out in a cabin in the woods?” He regretted asking the question soon after asking it, seeing the way her eyes filled with sadness. She hesitated to answer, her whole body stalling. He took the opportunity to chime in, sensing her melancholy. “You don’t have to answer that, sorry.” She nodded slightly at his apology, continuing her motions once again. She didn’t say anything else for a while, and neither did he- Charles was never much of a chatterbox. They sat in a comfortable silence until she got out a pair of tweezers. 

“Now, this is going to be the hard part… I’ve gotta pull the bullet out. It isn’t in too deep, but it’s still gonna hurt. Do you need anything? Something to bite down on, a drink?” The concern in her voice was evident. Charles knew he could handle pain pretty well, but decided to take her up on her offer of a drink anyways. She went to the cupboard retrieved a bottle of whiskey, which she just gave to him whole.

“You might need more than a glass.” He smiled at her as he took the bottle from her hand, taking a swig right away. He offered it back to her, but she declined. “Don’t think you want me inebriated while I’m playing nurse, do you?” 

“Suppose not.” He stood up and lowered his pants to just below where the bullet hole was. She pulled the skin taut and went to work trying to retrieve the small piece of metal from the flesh of his thigh. He winced at the pain, suddenly grateful that he took her up on the alcohol but wish he had gotten something to bite down on. She could feel him tense up, and heard the sharp intake of breath when the tweezers made contact. With them already lodged inside the wound she removed the hand from is leg and offered it to him. He grabbed it without thinking, squeezing down instinctively as pain rippled through him. If he wasn’t so lost in the sensation he would have been gentler than he was, made more of an attempt to  _ not  _ make her the next patient here. Luckily, before long the bullet was out and she attempted to try bandaging him up, only to be restricted by the hard grip he still had on her hand. She looked at him quizzically and he released her quickly, his face heating up from embarrassment. 

“Told you it’d hurt.” 

He laughed sheepishly. “I guess I overestimated my pain tolerance. Is your hand alright? I have a pretty strong grip…. I hope I didn’t hurt you.” 

She grinned at him and flashed her hand, opening and closing it like nothing. “I think you’re UNDERestimating my pain tolerance. I’m just fine, Charles.” She finished up the wrappings on his leg, and he stood to pull his pants back up. “Wait…” She started, before running off to another room. She returned with a pair of pants, mens. He cocked a brow at her- so she  _ didn’t  _ live alone? For some reason he found himself feeling… disappointed. 

“Take these. Those pants are all bloody and horrible.” She held them out to him and when he didn’t take them immediately, thrust them into his hands. “Please. I can assure you their owner...well, he won’t miss them much.” Charles nodded without a word and changed right then and there- he had just pulled down his pants in front of her a moment ago, so he didn’t think that this was much different. Still she found herself averting her eyes and blushing, but didn’t say a word. Once he had finished she looked back and that familiar sadness filled her eyes, leaving Charles wondering if he had done anything wrong. 

“Sorry, if that made you uncomfortable… I just thought-”

“No, no, it’s fine.” She quickly cut him off. “It’s not you, it’s just… those pants were my husband’s, one of his favourite pairs. Dependable, and damn expensive too.”

“Are you sure you want me to have them?”

She nodded quickly. “Yes, I’m sure. They’ve just been collecting dust in the drawer. I’m sure you’ll put them to good use. I just miss him, is all.” Sensing that her husband didn’t decide to leave her willingly, he decided to give his condolences.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and gave her a sympathetic look. 

“Thank you… thank you. It’s been a bit since his passing but I still miss him every day... His name was Cal, and he’s the reason I’m even out here in the first place- to answer your question from earlier. This is the kind of life he always wanted- quiet, secluded, close to nature. Unfortunately this was the life that killed him, and is probably going to kill me too.” Her final remark seemed light-hearted but it really caught Charles off guard, immediately becoming concerned. 

“What do you mean by that?” He couldn’t hide the worry in his voice, his desire to help others outweighing his usual desire to stay out of people’s personal business.

“I mean that it’s no surprise I’m not an avid hunter. I haven’t been able to catch myself something for a while- soon the food around here will run out, and I’ll probably starve, unless some generous animal decides to come and die on my doorstep.” 

“I’ll teach you.” He blurted out before even thinking about it, quickly following up with an explanation. “I’m a fairly decent hunter- it’s why I came out here in the first place. I can show you the basics, enough to survive on… it’s at least I can do to repay you for patching me up.”

“Well that’s not fair- I’m the one who shot you in the first place…”

“Fine, then consider it repayment for the pants.”

“But I was the one who ruined your pants in the first place…” Her continuous deflection was starting to get to him- he could tell she was too nice for her own good. 

“Please, Charlotte. Let me help you. I couldn’t just leave you here on your own-  _ please. _ ” She stared at him for a moment before lowering her resolve. 

“Alright then, Charles.” 


	6. Try and try again- Escuellas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Javier finds encouragement in an unexpected friend as he worries that his family is slipping away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so if you're confused Arturo is the younger brother of Javier's deceased girlfriend, and the uncle of his children (obviously). He's Jack's age, born in 1895 (15 because this is taking place in 1910).

_ Thud. Thud. Thud. _

Repeatedly the tip of Javier’s knife found itself impaling the wooden picnic tabletop. He wasn’t even paying attention anymore as he mindlessly plunged the sharp instrument into the rugged surface, instead more focused on the scene unfolding in front of him. John, and Abigail, with the children- but not just their own-  _ his  _ children as well. And of course, their uncle. Their  _ damn  _ uncle. 

He thinks he’d rather have his son and daughter spend time with Uncle, than with their uncle. 

He watched resentfully as John helped the girls out of the carriage while the younger boys ran amok outside. Jack and Arturo sat at the helm away from all the little ones, relaxing and talking about who knows what. Javier’s more paranoid side said they were talking about him, saying horrible things. His more practical side realized that Arturo was more keen to forget he existed at all. In his deep brooding session he hadn’t quite realized that somebody hat sat down next to him, and had been there for the last five minutes. And he probably would have never realized, if they didn’t shake him to attention. 

“Javier? Javier?”

“The fuck do you want?” He quickly spat, quickly regretting his words as he turned around to see a hurt looking Mary-Beth sitting at his side. “I-I’m sorry, Mary-Beth, you caught me off guard.” If it was one of the guys he wouldn’t be so quick to apologize, but he didn’t have the heart to hurt the ladies. Call him a romantic. 

“It’s fine, Javier. I’m sorry for sneakin’ up on you. You just seemed… troubled.” Her voice was a combination of soothing and curious; putting him at ease while also trying to pry deeper. “Anything you wanna talk about?” 

He was silent for a moment, contemplating the situation at hand. She clearly already knew he was having familial problems- everybody knew at this point. So there was no use in lying to her about why he was angrily staring at them. But did he want to go into details about his personal situation to her, burden her with his problems? Especially since she has so much on her plate already- four boys at home-that could rival the gang in their heyday with the amount of hell they raise- with another child on the way? 

As if she could read his mind (which he wasn’t fully unconvinced she  _ couldn’t _ , with the scary way she was able to read people), she quelled his worries. “I’m here if you want to talk, Javier. I know we ain’t the closest, but I’m here to lend an ear if you need it. Besides, I’d be happy to talk about something that doesn’t involve my four little monsters for a little while.” She giggled to herself and gave him a sincere smile, and right then all of Javier’s apprehensions went away. He thought for a moment how unfortunate it was that she was no longer involved in the thieving business- with her uncanny ability to charm and put people at ease she could have robbed half the country blind by this point. 

“It’s Arturo. The kid hates me. And honestly? I can’t blame him. He watched me float in and out of his sister’s life for years- the kids lives too. Trying to have the best of both worlds- a family in Mexico, and an independent life here. Was stupid of me to try, and now I don’t really have either.” He sighed as he leaned back in his chair, finally wrenching his view away from the people laughing across from him. 

“Oh Javier, I wouldn’t say that now. It’s obvious the boy loves you, Mart í n. He looks up at you the way John looks up at Arthur- the big one, that is.” She added with a laugh, unnecessarily distinguishing their old Arthur from John’s young son of the same name. 

“I guess you’re right… but he still will choose to spend time with his sister and his uncle over me. He feels like he betraying them since they obviously don’t want to be anywhere near me.” He sounded absolutely pathetic and it caught Mary-Beth off guard- Javier was usually so sure of himself; so confident. It was obvious the situation with his family had really taken a toll on his self esteem; being a father seemed to be one of the few things he found himself failing at time and time again, despite repeated attempts.

“Well, I suppose the answer would be to try and win over the other two. But I doubt it’ll be that easy, huh?” Javier scoffed at her.

“You’re right about that. Arturo… Arturo is-” He gave an elongated sigh, the calmness in his breath harshly juxtaposed by his fist coming down to strike the tabletop. “Arturo is a little bastard. He won’t give me a damn chance, and he has a hold over my girl too. My own daughter, and she can barely stand to look at me. But of course,  _ of course _ they have all the time in the world for the goddamn Marstons. It’s like Arturo’s trying to make John their new dad. John can barely parent his own fucking kids.”

“Hey now.” Mary-Beth warned, her voice that familiar stern usually reserved for talking to her boys. “You know John is a good father- don’t talk like that. Just because you’re jealous doesn’t mean you get to say those types of things.”

“I’m not jealous!” He quickly shot back at her- maybe a little too quickly to be convincing. She cocked a brow at him and gave him a sceptical look. He returned her eye contact, trying to look convicted. Ultimately he was no match for her, and he sighed in defeat, his shoulders visibly crumpling. “Alright, okay. I’m jealous. Are you happy?” Surprisingly when he looked up at her again she didn’t seem happy at all, more sympathetic. 

“It’s alright, Javier. Remember, John wasn’t always a great father himself. In fact, if I remember correctly, there were some days he didn’t believe he was a father at all.” She grinned as she recalled the days of John repeatedly denying his parentage to little Jack. “Ironically enough sometimes I even remember him drunkenly accusing  _ you  _ of being Jack’s father! That whole thing is funny to look back on now, ain’t it?” 

Javier chuckled. “I suppose so. But what’s your point?”

“My point is that John didn’t start as an amazing parent. He started with a wife that resented him, a son he doubted was his and a broken little family. But now look at him- he has three kids who love him, and he’s providing a lot of needed support for your kids as well, as much as that frustrates you. But if he can make it to this point, learn from his mistakes and grow, then so can you. One day you’ll be the great dad that your kids look up to, the one they want to be like. But you have to put in the work.” She gently placed her hand on top of his and gave it a squeeze. He flicked his eyes up to hers again and this time they were bright, determined on his behalf. She really had this confidence in him- he wasn’t sure why, but he appreciated it more than she knew. 

He gave her a nod goodbye, all the thank you she needed,  before getting up and making his way over to where his family mingled with the Marston’s. Mary-Beth watched from afar as John and Abigail readily tried to incorporate him into their activities- the excited look on Mart í n’s face, the sceptical yet intrigued looks on Maria’s and Arturo’s. She watched as he tried, and she was proud of him. Absentmindedly her hand travelled to her stomach as she thought about what her fifth child would be like- hoping they would have even half the resilience that their uncle Javier did. 


	7. The Final Duffy- Duffys ft Lenny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fifth (and final) Duffy child makes their way into the world

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally supposed to be more focused on MB/Kieran but then I decided to put Lenny there and yall know he's my fav SO it became more about him! I'm not even sorry

“James! Maxwell! Get down from there! Robert- stop picking on your baby brother! Leave his books alone or so help me god I will-” Mary-Beth didn’t get to finish her threat before she was cut off by a few warning knocks to the front door, followed by it opening and a few moments of blissful silence while everybody in the house looked to see who it was. Then, it was cheers of excitement as the four boys all scampered over to greet their favourite uncle, Lenny. 

“Woah there, tough guys! You can’t all gang up on me like that!” He said with a laugh as the children attacked him with hugs, jumping onto his back and hanging from his legs. He scooped up little Benjamin into his arms quickly to avoid him getting trampled. With exaggerated movements he stomped forward with the four boys in tow, smiling the entire way. 

“Lenny, always nice to see you.” Mary-Beth sighed out contendly, now that her four little forces of nature had been quelled. 

“Always nice to see you too! And my favourite little rascals.” The kids slowly started to climb off of him when he came to a halt in front of their mother, and he made an effort to ruffle all of their hair as they did so. He tried to hand over the toddler in his arms to his mother but he clung desperately to him and began to fuss. 

“You can keep him, Lenny.” She could visibly see Lenny perk up at that, and quickly felt the need to add, “Not forever, don’t get too excited.” His shoulders drooped a bit and she wondered if he really thought that she was going to give him her youngest son. Still, he held the small boy close to him, excitedly bouncing him as he giggled. 

“Uncle Lenny! Uncle Lenny! You wanna see the dead rat I put under my bed?” James shot up and asked, wanting the attention to be on him. 

“The WHAT you put under your WHAT?” A voice answered him from the other room, and Kieran came racing out from the kitchen. “James Duffy what did we say about puttin’ dead animals in your room?” The small boy pouted and crossed his arms, looking up to Lenny for support he wasn’t going to get. He may be the fun uncle, but he wasn’t going to get in the middle of actual parenting. 

“Darlin’, could you go throw out any other dead things in his room please? All of their rooms- I don’t trust any of ‘em.” Mary-Beth narrowed her eyes at the twins. Maxwell and Robert grinned as innocently as they could at her, but by this point she knew better than to believe the faces they put on. 

“Of course, my sweet.” Kieran quickly planted a kiss on his wife’s cheek before starting to make his way upstairs before stopping midway and turning back around. “My apologies, Lenny! I didn’t even say hello t’ya.” 

“No worries, Kieran. I can see you’re a bit preoccupied, at the moment.” He gave him a sympathetic smile and a pat on the shoulder. 

“Yeah, well, when aren’t we preoccupied these days?” His eyes quickly jumped to his young sons around the room and then to his wife’s stomach, full with what would be their last child. “These boys are my greatest blessing and my whole world but… they’re little devils, that’s for damn sure.” He gave a lopsided smile as he reached out to cup the cheek of Ben who was still sitting quite happily in Lenny’s arms. He reluctantly pulled away and made his way back upstairs to the boys’ rooms for cleanup duty, mentioning something about lunch being ready as he took off.  

Mary-Beth gestured for Lenny to follow her as the walked into the kitchen along with the pattering of six little feet behind them. He took a seat at the table, placing Ben on his knee as the rest of the boys sat in the adjacent seats. 

“Want anything to drink, Lenny?” Mary Beth asked as she rifled through the cupboards. “We got some fresh juice, couple of beers, some- HUH” She stumbled a bit as a surge of pain rain through her, gripping the counter as she dropped the bottle in her hand. It burst and shards of glass and liquid were cast everywhere.

“Woah, cool!” James piped up as he looked at the broken glass, not really giving much thought into why his mother dropped it in the first place. The twins were a bit more intuitive, immediately becoming worried.

“Momma, are you alright?” Maxwell jumped out of his seat and to her side, quickly followed by Robert.

“Yeah, momma! Is everything ok? Are you hurt?” They tugged at her sleeves desperately as she tried to soothe them. Despite the pain she was feeling she did her best to make sure that they didn’t step on any of the sharp pieces of glass scattered around their feet. Lenny was the last one to rise and slowly headed over to her, extending her his arm. As he looked at the surrounding area he marveled at how a simple bottle could hold SO much liquid! 

“Let’s get you seated now, c’mon.” He pulled a chair out from the table closer to her so she didn’t have to walk too far. She sat down with a pained expression, grasping her stomach. 

“Lenny,” She started with a weak voice. “Could you call for my husband, please? Tell him it’s time.” Without questioning Lenny shouted what she asked him to. In a matter of seconds he heard something dropping above his head before the hurried clambering of feet down the stairs. Kieran almost tripped over himself as he raced into the kitchen, out of breath with a beet red face. 

“Already? Right now? Oh god- oh god!” Kieran ran around the room, mumbling to himself endlessly. “I’m gonna go find Miss Grimshaw and leave the boys with somebody else.- Lenny stay with her will ya? Kids let’s move!” His voice was stern, much more so than Lenny had ever heard it be before. Obviously he meant business and the boys knew it too, as without another word they followed him out the door. Lenny had never seen them so obedient. Finally, Kieran grabbed Ben from his uncle and raced out the door with his brood of Duffys. That just left Lenny alone with Mary-Beth in the kitchen. 

“So- uh…” He stuttered out, still not quite following everything that was going on.

“The baby’s comin’, Lenny.” 

“I knew that!” He said, lying through his teeth. He mentally facepalmed himself for not realizing that sooner, especially with the amount of grasping at her stomach that she did. He also realized that it probably wasn’t just soda on the floor and almost audibly laughed at his own obliviousness. “Is there anything I can do?” 

“Just… stay by my side, at least until Kieran and Miss Grimshaw get back. I’ve done this enough times I could probably do it on my own, but I’m not gonna turn down the help. Just let me crush your hand and scream for a bit, if you will?” She looked up at him with an expression that didn’t at all fit a woman in the beginning stages of labour.  She looked calm- a bit strained but not much more so than usual. 

Deciding that the couch in the living room would be more comfortable than the one she was currently in, Lenny helped her make her way there. He took the pressure off of her so she could sit down more comfortably, reclining back and putting her feet up. 

The two sat for a while, making idle conversation in between Mary-Beth’s grunts of pain. Soon they were onto the topic of the baby soon to come- specifically the sex of the youngest Duffy.

“So, you guys have a preference for what you’re havin’?”

She sighed to herself. “I suppose the good answer would be to say no, that we just want a healthy baby. And we do- don’t get me wrong! We’d be happy to have one more little boy in our home. But… dear  _ god  _ do we want a daughter.”

“That’s what I thought you’d say.” Lenny smirked down at her and she rolled her eyes at him.

“Can you blame us? We have our four boys, and we love them to death. But we see Charles with his little brood of girls- John and Abigail, Sean and Karen, Dutch, Arthur… we see them all with their daughters and just want to have one of our own, y’know? Especially Kieran… that man has wanted a little girl of his own ever since Rose was born.” 

Lenny huffed at her, a little bit annoyed. “At least be lucky you have a family, kids of your own…” She gave him a sympathetic look and squeezed his hand. 

“You’ll find somebody, someday… Then you’ll be as tired as the rest of us are.” He didn’t look convinced, but wasn’t about to start an argument with a woman in labour. 

“Do you have any names picked out?” He asked, deciding to change the subject.

She shook her head. “We just kind of… see what fits, when we see their face.” 

“Do you know what I think would be a good name?”

“What?”

“Lenny.” 

She snorted. “I’m sure you do think that’s a fine name. Can’t say I’m as sold on it though.” Taking that as an invitation to try and convince her on why she should choose that name, he spent the next twenty minutes doing just that. He probably would have gone on for longer, if Kieran hadn’t finally returned with Miss Grimshaw in tow. The older lady quickly shooed him out, and he gave the parents-to-be a small wave before leaving out the front door. Realizing he wouldn’t be able to focus on doing much else anyways, he decided to hang around out front so he could be one of the first to get a good look at the new baby (and perhaps convince them that they look like a “Lenny”). After multiple hours of screaming and crying (and that was just Kieran), Lenny eventually heard the tell-tale screech of a newborn. Excitedly he opened the door slowly, waiting for somebody to tell him to stop. When nobody did he ran in, buzzing with excitement. The living room was empty except for Susan, who was just packing up her things.

“Did you wait out there the whole time, Mr.Summers?” Grimshaw questioned him.

“Well, yeah… Just in case anything went wrong! And a couple people came by, askin’ how things were goin’. I was just keepin’ guard.” 

“Mhm…” She rolled her eyes at him. “I know why you really stayed. Baby’s upstairs, parents’ll be happy you stuck around.” She gave him one of those rare smiles as she finished fixing up her stuff. “I’m gonna go grab the boys. Kieran left ‘em with John, Abigail, Arthur, Sadie… takes a whole team to wrangle those little buggers.” She sighed and looked visibly worn at the mere mention of the Duffy boys. As she was heading out the door Lenny was going up the stairs. He knew where their bedroom was and made his way there, the tired voices of Mary-Beth and Kieran growing louder as he drew near. The baby had stopped crying, for now, and Lenny counted his lucky stars. He knocked on the door a few times and was greeted with the sight of Kieran, beaming from ear to ear.

“Lenny! Good to see you back so soon. Everything went perfect- mom’s fine, baby’s fine. My girl’s done this so many times she’s pretty much an expert.” He smiled proudly as he talked about his wife. “Come in, come in! I guess you wanna see ‘em, huh?”

Lenny nodded enthusiastically. “I wanna see lil Lenny jr!” Kieran cocked a brow at him. “Oh come on Duffy, it’s a great name!” He said excitedly as he made his way past him into the bedroom. 

“I already told you, Lenny-” Mary-Beth spoke up from out of nowhere. “We’re not namin them Lenny! Besides…” She smirked knowingly. “Don’t think Lenny is much of a name for a lil girl.” His eyes widened with shock as he bolted over to the side of the bed, as close as he could get to the mother and infant. 

“A girl- a girl! You guys have a daughter!” He clapped excitedly as he looked down in the little bundle in Mary-Beth’s arms. He patted her on the shoulder before pulling Kieran in for a hug.

“I have a daughter!” Kieran gushed, saying it as though he was still trying to convince himself that it was true. “Grace. Grace Duffy.” He said the name confidently, proudly. Bending down he planted a kiss on his wife’s forehead before leaning down further to do the same to his daughter. “My girls…” He mused quietly to himself, and Lenny could see the sheer love he had for his family in his eyes. 

He stayed a while longer with them before the distinct sound of four rambunctious children echoed throughout the house and clambered up the stairs. Soon they were there in the room with their parents, marvelling over their newborn baby sister. Lenny took that as his cue to leave, letting the family have their time alone. As he was leaving he took a look at all of them together and thought to himself how badly he wanted that for himself someday. He gave them one last smile as he closed the door on them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rose is Karen and Sean's daughter, born 1899 (for context)


	8. Bob's yer Uncle- The Smiths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles' youngest daughter, Olive, has found an unlikely friend in the gang and he's less than pleased.

“Please don’t tell me she’s spending time with him again.” 

“Fine, I won’t tell you.” Charles groaned in exasperation at his wife’s response. He had been looking for their youngest daughter, Olive, all day. But it seems she was where she seemingly always was- at the side of her favourite person around camp. Charles wouldn’t mind her being close to literally  _ anybody  _ else. Arthur, Hosea, Sadie, Lenny, Tilly- anybody else would have been a better companion and role model for her.

But no, little Olive decided to become quite fond of  _ Uncle.  _

While his older two girls Josephine and Cora were hard-working and driven, Olive had gone down a path of laziness- or “supervising”, as Uncle liked to put it. She often spent much of her free time napping under trees or lounging around the fire while the people around her worked. And even though she was still young- barely six- she was starting to get a little too good at making excuses for why she is actually helping by doing absolutely nothing. Another thing she learned from him, Charles was sure. 

“He’s a bad influence on her. Why do you let her spend so much time with him?” Charles was incredulous that after how many times he’s stated his frustration with Olive hanging out with Uncle that Charlotte would continue to allow her to. 

“I let her spend time with him because that’s what makes her happy.” He rolled his eyes at her.

“Yeah, wouldn’t we all be happy to lounge around all day doing nothing. But that’s no life to live- it’s pathetic. She should learn to value hard work, not whatever brand of sloth Uncle is is tainting her mind with.” He felt himself starting to become more heated as he spoke. Charles didn’t find himself becoming angry or frustrated in regards to his children often, but the situation with Olive was something that just got to him in a way most other things didn’t. He supposed it was because Josephine and Cora were so ambitious and contributed so much that he expected Olive to fall in line and be like them. He couldn’t help compare how helpful they were when they were her age to where she is now and be….disappointed. 

And he HATED the idea of being disappointed in his children. Even the thought alone brought him shame- he always wanted to be the type of father to accept whatever choices in life they made, love whoever they turned out to be, find pride in things of theirs that he couldn’t see the value in. But when he had those thoughts he meant more along the lines of his future children wanting to become lawyers, or politicians. Not “supervisors”. And while Uncle was family, and he supposed he loved him in some way or form, he definitely did not want him near his daughter.

“Well what do you want me to do, Charles? Forbid her from seeing him?” He genuinely thought about it for a moment, not realizing that she was being facetious. She could tell he was considering it, and she slapped him on the shoulder for it. 

“What?” He grunted at her.

“That was for thinking about it! We’re not forbidding her from seeing him, no way.”   
“Why not? What’s the worst that could happen?” Charlotte hummed for a moment.

“Oh, I don’t know… She gets upset with us for separating her from her favourite uncle. Then, because we know she will, she just goes to see him behind our back. And then not only do we have a daughter that hates us, but one that knows how to lie.” He started up like he was going to refute her, until he realized she was right. 

“Damn it.” He muttered to himself before collapsing onto a chair. He ran his hands through his hair and leant back into the motion, his head hanging back as he stared up at his wife who hovered behind him. She placed a kiss on his forehead and he brought a hand up to cup her face.

“Just let her be, Charles. She’s not old enough to be helping around yet, anyways. Let her enjoy being young. I know Cora and Jo were cleaning and hunting with you by her age, but they were the exception- not the rule. You know none of the other young ones are helping any! Look at lil Arthur, John and Abigail don’t expect anything of him! Maybe we should just cut Olive a break.” She gently rubbed his shoulders as she spoke, and could feel him relax into her from both her movements and her words. 

“Maybe you’re right…” He sighed out. “She’s still young. Maybe her work ethic will come later… and if it doesn’t, Grimshaw will surely drill one into her.” With that he felt Charlotte stop her movements as she came around to his front.

“No, no, no- we are not letting that dragon lady around my little Olive! I’d rather have her sitting on her ass until she’s eighty rather then let Grimshaw lay into her!” Charles couldn’t help but laugh- she had never gotten along well with Susan from the time Charles introduced her to the gang. Even though she had mellowed out a bit since leaving the criminal lifestyle behind, she was still as tough as ever. 

Charles was just about to speak when they both heard a knock on the front door. Charles was up quickly to answer it, and found himself face to face with the man he had been griping about just minutes before. And he wasn’t alone- in his arms was Olive doing what she did best… sleeping. 

“Why hello there, Charles! Think I found somethin’ that belongs to you out there!” He said with a laugh before stepping into the house, deeming an invitation unnecessary. Charles relented, stepping out of the way to let the older man in. 

“Thought your ‘lumbago’ prevented you from carrying things around?” He chided Uncle, cocking a brow.

“It comes and goes.” He said the familiar excuse quickly and dismissively. “Besides, I can do with a bit of sufferin’ for my favourite girl!” He absolutely beamed as he looked down at little Olive, almost a bit reluctant to eventually hand her off to her father. “Glad ONE of these kids appreciates my genius.” 

“Yeah, your….genius.” Charles repeated but with much less confidence. “Dear, Uncle’s come and brought us a gift!” He called into the next room, and when Charlotte came in she clasped her hands over her heart at the sight of her little one. 

“Well, isn’t that the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen! How are you, Uncle? And how is my girl?” 

“I am just dandy, thank you miss Charlotte! And the girl, well, she’s all tuckered out that’s for certain!”

“What, did you break a sweat watching somebody else work?” Charles mumbled, unfortunately not quietly enough to be missed by anybody in the room. His wife gave him a punch to the shoulder and shot him a glare. 

“Don’t mind him-”

“Oh I never do, trust me!” Uncle quickly said, cutting her off. “I know this one’s just a grumpus, most of the dads are when it comes to their lil princesses!” He chuckles heartily and Charlotte can’t help but laugh along with him- Charles definitely can. 

“So, what brings you two by? Didn’t expect to see her back around for a few hours yet.”

“Oh!” Uncle exclaimed, seemingly forgetting that he had come here for a reason. “Olive passed out on a rock. Didn’t want the poor thing to end up with a back like mine, thought she’d be better off in her bed.” He seemed genuine as he spoke, cradling the girl in his arms as she slept like a log. Charles simply nodded in response, reaching out to take her from him. He carefully handed her over to her father, who took her upstairs to her room. 

Uncle didn’t stay much longer after that, which was quite unlike him- he usually had a habit to infect any room he entered. But he merely bid Charlotte a quick goodbye, heading out the door before Charles could even return to thank him. 

“He’s gone?” He asked when he got to the bottom of the stairs. 

“He’s gone.” Charlotte repeated, her voice lilting as if she had more to say. Charles raised his brows at her, prodding her to continue. “How can you say he’s all that bad… You can tell he really cares for her! He even got up off his ass and  _ carried  _ her here! I can’t remember the last time I saw Uncle carry anything!” 

“Me neither…” Charles couldn’t help but admit, earning a smug look from his wife. “I’m not saying that makes me any happier that she spends so much time with him, you know that right? Although I’ll say it’s nice to have her at home, seems like she  _ never  _ is. ” Charlotte eyed her husband, trying to figure out which emotion he was attempting to bury inside him this time. It took a couple moments of scanning his face before she figured it out-

He was jealous. 

“Honey…” She cooed, coming over to take his arm. “Are you maybe a bit… jealous, of how fond Olive has become of Uncle?” She smiled wickedly at him as he wrenched his arm away from hers.

“Why would I be jealous, dear? She’s my daughter.” His voice seemed calm but Charlotte by this point knew her husband better than that, picking up on the subtle emphasis he placed on the words “my daughter”, as if trying to remind himself more than her. 

“Yeah, but….” She reached her hand back out to him to rest on his shoulder. “When was the last time the two of you did anything together? Last time she spent the day with you, over him? Is that what this is really all about, hmm?” She smirked at him and he avoided meeting her eye, knowing he’d crumble under her glare. He never could successfully lie to Charlotte- she knew him too well.

“Maybe…” He began. “I have been a bit… resentful, of not being able to spend as much time with her as I would like.” He spoke slowly, trying to choose his words as best he could to make it seem like she’s as least right as possible, but he soon became more vulnerable as he started speaking from the heart. “I remember when she was a baby, everybody said that she’d be the most like me yet. She had my everything- my eyes, my hair, my complexion… and now it seems like she’s in another world.  _ Uncle’s world. _ ” 

Looking upon her husband with soft eyes she drew him in for a hug, his arms quickly wrapping around her waist. She leaned back, taking his face in her hands as she pressed her forehead to his. 

“Charles…” She said sweetly. “She is the most like you, you just can’t see it. She’s stubborn like you, loyal like you and calm like you. Sure, she may be missing the hard-worker gene but she’s just like you in so many other ways! She has so many of the best parts of you- including your heart… Look at how happy she makes that old fart. She spends the day with him when nobody else will, when nobody else can stand it! She couldn’t have gotten that patience from anybody else but you.” 

His heart swelled at her words, and he leaned forward to kiss her, both of them smiling into it like newlyweds rather than parents of three. Her little speech gave him the bought of confidence he needed, soothed him. Maybe, just maybe, he could put up with little Uncle jr running around his house after all.


	9. Puppy Love- Escuellas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little Martin expeirences his first visit to Saint Denis and his first crush all rolled up into one

The streets of Saint Denis were bustling with activity. The chatter of people as they strolled arm in arm, the clop of the horses on the cobblestone roads, the dinging of the streetcar… it was almost too much for Martín, who was more used to the small village he grew up in. But he had to admit it was all beautiful as well, and while he definitely felt out of place it was quite the experience to just marvel at everything around him. He didn’t get to awe at the city for too long, however, before feeling hand on his shoulder shake him from his daydream.

“Martín! Focus.” He looked up to his father, almost having forgotten he was there. Javier had wanted to head to the tailor, as he often did, and thought it would be a good bonding experience for the two of them so he asked the boy to tag along. Especially at the cheesy thought that crossed his mind of getting his son and himself matching outfits so he’d have a little mini-me.

“Lo sien- Sorry.” His mind instinctively went to Spanish, but he switched midway per his father’s wishes. He thought that speaking English in the city would help them avoid standing out as well as being a good opportunity for him to practice. In all honesty it hurt Javier to stop his son from speaking his native tongue, but he knew it was safer to do it away from a place like Saint Denis. Despite the supposed “changing times” people, especially in larger cities, weren’t still weren’t always too kind to people speaking languages other than English. And Javier wanted to be certain that him and his boy had a good day out without any trouble.

“It’s no problem. Now c’mon, the tailor is just down the way. We’re gonna have you lookin’ slick, my boy.” He couldn’t help the wide smile on his face as the two of them walked down the street together, Javier’s arm resting protectively on Martín’s shoulder the entire way. Once they had reached the familiar storefront he quickly ushered the boy inside, visibly excited.

Martín watched as the man at the desk and his father quickly shook hands, obviously familiar with each other.

“Here, here! Let me introduce you to my boy!” Javier excitedly gestured back to the child standing awkwardly behind him. “Martín! This is Quincy, the man who keeps your old man looking top notch. Quincy, this is my son.” The strange man quirked a brow as he looked down at him.

“I wasn’t aware you had any children, Javier.” His voice was posh, but seemed fake.

“I do! My boy here, and a girl, Maria.” The man broke out into a smile as he shook Javier’s hand.

“Well aren’t I glad you decided to introduce me! You’ll have to bring your girl by someday too, I’d love to outfit the entire Escuella family.”  Martín winced as the man butchered the pronunciation of his last name- he should be used to it by now, everybody did, but hearing it in the faux-riche accent made him cringe.

Despite the sentiment of “dressing the family” the tailor didn’t seem to show much interest in anything but fitting Javier, maybe because he knew the man and his tastes so well already. Eventually Javier got swept up in it as well, having been awhile since he was last out shopping for new clothes. So Martín watched from the side as the two older men chatted away, pulling clothes off of the rack. Eventually Quincy excused the two of them to the back room, and Martín was told to stay put. So he sat in one of the chairs in the front, twiddling his thumbs and waiting.

Before they came back the door swung open, and in walked a woman with what looked to be her daughter. They were both pale, the mother with fiery red hair and the girls’ raven black. They both seemed familiar in the establishment and looked the part as well, both wearing dresses that, even with his limited knowledge on the topic, Martín could deduce were quite nice. He couldn’t help but watch them as he sat as still in a statue in the chair, trying not to call their attention onto him. It didn’t seem to go to plan as the girl, while her eyes roamed around the room, caught his own. She smiled sweetly at him, keeping their eyes locked as she walked alongside her mother to the front desk. She turned away when spoken to, and Martín thought his heart would stop in his chest when the woman, with a thick accent he couldn’t place, told her to go and take a seat while they waited. The girl nodded and shuffled over to take a seat in the chair next to his as the mother was escorted into a back room by a female employee.

“Are you lost?” Her voice was eloquent, refined. He noticed as well that she lacked the same accent as the woman she was with. He shook his head no in response to her question.

“I’m… waiting for somebody.” He mumbled his words, too worried about messing up his English in front of her to speak confidently.

“Oh. Well that’s no fun. I hate waiting. Have you been waiting long?” Again, he shook his head no. “That’s good to hear. Have you ever been here before? I come here often with my mother or my father.”

“It’s my first time. I am very… bored.” She looked offended for a minute before he quickly corrected himself. “Was! I was very bored, until you came to talk to me.” This made her smile, and the young boy felt his palms start to sweat. He was confused with himself- why did she make him so nervous, yet he wanted to badly to keep talking to her?

“Well I’m glad to hear I’m not bothering you. I’ve never seen you around here before, and I know most of the regulars. I’ve been coming here since I was only a baby, and I’m nine now! How old are you?”   
“Ocho- Eight.” He responded quickly, too quickly. He stuttered trying to cover up his Spanish. She looked at him thoughtfully.

“Do you speak Spanish?” He nodded. “You can speak it in front of me, I don’t mind. I mean… I won’t be able to understand, but that’s okay! I’m a good guesser anyways.” She turned towards him expectantly, urging him to continue speaking. And they did this for a while- Martín speaking much more confidently in Spanish, and the girl trying her best to figure out what he was saying based on the way words sounded and the few things of Spanish she COULD understand. They giggled and laughed at all of her guesses that were way off, and clapped triumphantly when she got something right.

Eventually their fun time ended when they heard the sound of footsteps coming back into the room, and while Martín looked expecting it to be his father (who had been gone for a good while by now) it was the redheaded woman. She seemed to be in a bit of a rush as she checked her watch, quickly making her way back to the front of the parlour.

“C’mon, c’mon me girl we hafta be goin’! We’re gonna be late and your father won’t be happy!” She went outside ahead of her daughter, leaving her looking rather annoyed. She got up to leave before turning around and extending her gloved hand out.

“It was nice to make your acquaintance while we waited.” He quickly shook her hand but never got the chance to get her name, as another yell from outside made the girl turn and run out in a panic... but not before giving him one last wave.

“Martín!” He heard his father’s voice call out, and quickly jumped out of his chair. “Martín! I’m so sorry I made you wait, my son.” Javier quickly ran out from a back room and knelt in front of the boy. “We lost track of time- but it wasn’t for nothing, come with me!” And just like that he went from laughing and talking to a pretty girl in the foyer to being rushed into the back and onto a platform surrounded by mirrors in the center of the room. Quincy was there, holding up a rather fancy looking dark red coat with gold accents. Martín was confused, because the coat was very obviously much too big for him. It wasn’t until Quincy revealed a smaller version of the same coat hiding behind the first did he understand.

With an extra pep in his step Javier quickly got himself dressed in his new digs before helping to properly dress his son, showing him how to tuck in so they look smooth and to properly tie a bandana. Soon he marvelled proudly in the mirror at their matching outfits, absolutely radiating happiness. He quickly paid for the outfits, eager to get out and about and show off their new duds. He strutted confidently with Martín in tow down the streets to where they left their horses, earning looks of appreciation along the way. The young boy couldn’t help but stand a little taller himself, but mostly due to getting the good vibes radiating off of his father rather than anything to do with how he felt in the clothes.

Soon- maybe too soon- they reached the horses, and Javier quickly packed up their other clothes into the saddlebags before helping hoist Martín up onto his horse, then taking his own place on Boaz. The two started on the journey back home, and made a bit of conversation on the ride, until Javier asked Martín a question that he wasn’t sure how to answer.

“So, what did you do the whole time while you were waiting?” He contemplated lying, just saying he sat there in silence, but saw no harm in being honest about the girl he had met.

“I was talking to...somebody.” Javier quickly caught the way his son’s voice changed and prodded more, even though he felt like he already knew what he was getting at.

“Somebody, eh? A girl?”

“Maybe.”

“Was she nice?”

“Very.”

“Was she pretty?” A blush spread across Martín’s cheeks as his eyes darted to the ground.

“Very.” Javier thought he couldn’t be more proud of his son, yet here he was. His son had developed his first crush, and he thought it was the sweetest thing he’d ever seen.

“Don’t be so embarrassed, mi hijo! Tell me about her!”

“Well…” He started. “She had black hair, and a nice dress. And she wore fancy gloves! She sat next to me, and didn’t mind when I spoke Spanish! In fact, we made a game out of it...” He smiled sheepishly as he recounted their conversation, a smile creeping on his cheeks. Javier thought his heart would melt at the sight of his lovestruck little man.

“That’s my boy! Looks like you inherited the old Escuella charm- that’s the same charm that landed me your mother, you know.” He winked and gave a cheeky grin and Martín rolled his eyes.

“Yeah right! Mom probably just felt bad for you.” Javier scoffed in mock offense, holding his hand to his heart.

“You wound me so, my boy!” He chuckled and Martín couldn’t help but laugh along. “So, did you get her name?” He shook his head sadly and shrugged.

“No, she had to run really quickly. This lady with a weird accent rushed her out the door, apparently they were running late for something. It’s okay though, I’ll probably never see her again, anyways…” His voice trailed off and he was quite obviously disheartened at the thought of it, despite how nonchalant he tried to act. Javier slowed his horse up a bit and pulled up close next to him, resting a hand on his arm.

“You never know what’ll happen, the world works in mysterious ways.” And that was the end of the conversation as they soon found themselves at the edge of the property they resided on with the other members of the gang and their families. They gave a few quick waves to some of the people out and about as they headed to their house. On the way they passed Dutch’s house, and Martín noticed an unfamiliar carriage outside of it.

“¿Qué es eso?” He looked at his father with a quizzical expression.

“Ah! I didn’t tell you. Ven conmigo, mi hijo.” Without another word he changed direction and rode towards the house, and Martín eagerly followed. It wasn’t often they got visitors here aside from Trelawny and his family, so something new was exciting. As he got closer he could hear the bustle of multiple people talking, including Dutch and Hosea. He saw bags being unloaded from the trunk, being carried in by John and Jack. Soon he could hear another voice amongst the crowd- one that a few hours previous would have been completely foreign to him, but now he felt he recognized. And his suspicions were confirmed when he saw the red headed lady from the tailor with her arms crossed as she sat on the porch, chatting away with Dutch. Quickly his eyes scanned around until they found her, the black haired girl, excitedly talking to Louisa.

He stared at her until she too noticed him and broke out into a wide smile. Like a zombie he stumbled off his horse, about to walk over to her, until his dad grabbed him by the shoulder.

“Martín! You remember us talking about Dutch’s daughter and his ex-wife, right? Well now you get to meet them. Meet Molly,” He said, gesturing to the redheaded woman who gave a polite nod in response, obviously not recognizing him from the store. “And Eleanor.” He then gestured to the young girl who had made her way over from talking to Louisa to join the conversation.

“Eleanor… eres tú!” He exclaimed, earning confused looks from the adults around them, which now included Dutch.

“Yes, it’s me!” She successfully deduced what he was asking and clasped her hands together excitedly. “Martín was your name, right?” She must have overheard when Javier shouted it a moment earlier. He nodded. “You look real sharp in that coat, must be new… Guess it was all worth the wait.” She added with a knowing grin. After that the two had a moment as they smiled at each other all lovey-dovey, before Dutch coughed loudly enough to snap their attention onto him. Martín’s eyes quickly darted from Dutch to his father, who stood there with a look of realization.

“Do you two… know each other?” Dutch asked as he slowly made his way to stand behind his daughter, placing his hands on her shoulders. His eyes narrowed at the boy as he stood protectively over his daughter, and Martín felt himself shrink under his glare.

“I think…” Javier butted in. “That the two of them met at the tailor’s, earlier. We were there at the same time that Molly and Eleanor were, but we missed each other. The kids didn’t, however! Isn’t it nice that they got to meet each other beforehand?” He tried to relieve the tension in the situation as best he could, and it seemed to work well enough for Dutch to stop death-staring an eight year old and usher his daughter and ex-wife inside for lunch. As they went up the stairs and in the door Eleanor turned around one more time and gave Martín a wave. Javier cocked a brow at this and ruffled his sons hair.

“Ay, out of all the girls in the world you had to be in puppy love with Dutch’s fuckin’ daughter. Dios mio…” He rubbed his temple as he looked down at his boy.

“Is… is that bad?” Javier snorted at his naivete.

“Is it bad? Dutch is crazy protective over his little girl. You may just be kids but he’ll still give you hell if he finds out you’re pining por su hijita.”

“Does that mean I shouldn’t talk to her anymore?” Javier shook his head and knelt down to his sons level.

“Absolutely not. Just means you gotta be smart about it.” He gave his son a wink and pulled him in for a hug. “El corazón quiere lo que quiere, Martín.” He patted him on the back and the two of them went back to their cabin for the night, with little María and Arturo eager to hear about what they had been up to while they were out.


	10. Just For a Night- Morgans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The guys try to get Arthur out of the house, just for a night

They were gonna kill him. 

He was bitching and whining incessantly. Trudging his feet, trying to slip away at any given opportunity. Dutch and Charles ended up having to tag team him to keep him in line, both of them securing a place at either of his sides, with John in the back. But even with all of them around him, trying to keep his attention focused on the night of fun they were attempting to have….Arthur Morgan couldn’t stop worrying about his daughter for more than five minutes.

“Y’think she’s doin’ alright without me?” He asked for the dozenth time, earning him the same response of various affirmations from the men around him. 

Ever since Evan’s birth Arthur pretty much dedicated all of his time to her- it was sweet, and everybody was proud of him for how good a father he was. But he hadn’t had a single night for himself in months, so the guys decided it would be a good time for a “boy’s night out”. Dutch, Charles, John, Javier and Sean all teamed up to coax him out without Evan for the first time, who was to be left back at home in the care of Hosea (amongst others). And even though Arthur trusted Hosea with his own life without question, it seemed he didn’t have as must trust in him with something much more important- the life of his daughter. 

“But what if-”

“No buts!” Javier cut him off. “We’re all fathers here, Arthur! Just trust us, you can be away from her for a night.” 

“Exactly!” Sean chimed in. “Plus, everybody back at home is gonna be lookin’ out for the wee ones! Between all the people you put on baby duty for yer kid I doubt anybody would even look at ‘er the wrong way!” Arthur blushed a bit, knowing that everybody else thought he went way overboard with the babysitters. Primarily he asked Hosea to watch her- but then also asked Sadie to help out. And then for Lenny to keep guard. And if Bill had the time, he asked him to stop by too. 

When he didn’t respond Charles was the one to change his stance from having his hand wrapped around the other man’s bicep to slinging it around his shoulders. “Arthur. It’ll be fine.” He soothed. “We know how hard it is for you to be away from her. But you need time to yourself, to be apart for a bit. It’s better for both of you, trust me.” He tried to give his friend a smile of encouragement. He could sympathize with what he was going through, after his oldest daughter was born Charles pretty much never took his eyes off of her for months. It took him a while (and eventually having two more) for him to realize that children weren’t as fragile as they seemed. But that appeared to be a lesson Arthur hadn’t learned yet, only made ten times worse with what had happened to Isaac. 

“Where are we goin’ anyways?” Arthur grumbled, still not fully convinced on this whole thing quite yet. 

“You’ll see.” John rasped from behind him. The men then walked onwards making idle chit chat with each other, Arthur choosing to stay mostly quiet as to not bring down the mood while his mind raced a mile a minute thinking of his baby at home. Eventually they walked for a while and came upon a saloon, of course. Arthur didn’t know what he expected.

But this saloon was different- in a town they’d never been to before, one he couldn’t even remember the name of. It was large and pretty decent looking, he had to admit. Even from outside he could hear people laughing and talking, with a happy piano tune faintly in the background. 

“See, son!” Dutch beamed as he saw the brief look of wonder pass over Arthur’s face. “We’re gonna have a good time. Maybe not  _ as  _ good a time as you and Lenny and Valentine, but damn well close.” He used his arms to gently usher the group in through the doors, and they were all immediately greeted with the kind of warmth and strong atmosphere that could only be experienced at a full saloon on a Friday evening. 

The men, not at all unfamiliar with the setting, soon found themselves at home. A couple of ladies immediately eyed the group as they came in, causing most of them to stand a little bit taller. Sean was the first to head to the bar, eager to get a start on the night’s drinking. He ordered a round for all of them, which made Dutch sigh as he knew he’d be the one covering the tab for it later. But he didn’t mind, he wanted the boys to all have a good time-  _ especially  _ Arthur. 

Before long they split into groups of two- the married men and the single. John, Charles and Sean sat at the bar keeping each other company, making exaggerated hand movements in a way that showed off the rings on their left hands. Then, at one of the tables in the center of the room sat Javier, Dutch and Arthur with a couple girls joining them soon after. Of course Dutch was the one to invite them to sit, with Javier and Arthur being a bit more reluctant due to not being over their last partners. Despite this Javier was never one to be impolite, and soon he was chatting away with the redhead who sat to his left. Arthur couldn’t help but chuckle at Dutch’s aversion to her, knowing what happened between him and the last redhead he ended up with. He instead talked to a sweet looking brunette who looked maybe a  _ bit  _ too much like Mary-Beth for him to feel comfortable, and he found himself relieved that Kieran turned down the night of fun to stay home with his family. 

And so that left Arthur to chat with cheerful looking blonde seated to his right, which no matter how many sips of his drink he took he couldn’t find himself very interested in. The conversation never got into any more depth than the weather, because he felt like he’d get shit if he brought up his daughter again. Obviously she wanted more because before long he felt her hand on his knee and jerked away out of instinct. She obviously wasn’t very pleased with this turn of events and stomped away, her friends quickly abandoning their places at his friends’ and running off after her. 

“Don’t know what her problem is…” He grumbled, trying to cover up what happened.

“Always a charmer, ey Arthur?” Javier chided, to which he just rolled his eyes in response. “Must be terrible, have women throwing themselves like that at you, huh?” He added with a cheeky wink, obviously having noticed how into him he was despite being preoccupied with his own conversation. His face reddened at the thought of it being that obvious what her intentions were. 

“Oh calm down, Arthur.” Dutch chuckled. “Let’s get you another drink, how’s that sound?” He shrugged and Dutch took it as a sign to head to the bar, returning with three beers in hand and the rest of the guys in tow. They all sat around the table for a while, getting more and more drunk as the night went on. Much to everyone's delight he didn’t bring up the baby once, instead downing drink after drink to shut himself up. 

Soon the whole gang was absolutely shitfaced- Sean was on the top floor of the saloon singing his lungs out while Javier played a guitar that nobody could figure out how he got. Charles and John were running around like idiots, laughing with some strangers as if they had known them for decades. It seemed the brunette Dutch was talking to earlier had found her way back to him, obviously flirting and resting her hand on his arm before he said something that made her eyes widen and an apology spill from her lips. Without the plot of getting Arthur to talk to the girl Dutch found himself disinterested, especially since he had Hosea back home. Speaking of Arthur… where was he, now?

Sitting at the bar, chatting the bartenders ear off about the one thing he had on his mind all night that he was nowhere near drunk enough to forget.

“And she’s big! So big! Gets that from me. She’s smart too! Doesn’t get that from me.” He was his usual mix of proud and self-deprecating, only this time with the added bonus of being a bit tipsy so he slurred his words here and there. “Do y’know she has my eyes? Mine! I feel like I’m lookin’ in a tiny lil mirror when I’m holdin’ her! ‘Cept she’s way prettier than me, luckily she doesn’t have my ugly mug.” The bartender stood there with an amused smile on his face as he listened to Arthur speak. He’s heard a lot of drunken rambles in his days- from people talking about how they hated their father, to all the adventures they had in the bedroom to talking about the last person or two they murdered. He had never heard somebody go on a tangent about how much they loved and missed their child, especially not a guy as rough-looking as him. 

“What was her name again?” 

“EVANGELINE!” He nearly shouted. “Ain’t it nice? I picked it, y’know!”

“It’s quite nice, sir.” The bartender laughed. “How old is she?”

“A year almost! Can you believe it? She’s growin’ up so fast…” The man watched Arthur intently as a tear rolled down his cheek, and then he knew it might be time to cut the man off. As if on command Dutch materialized behind him, throwing the bartender a nice tip as he dragged Arthur away. He managed to round up all of the men who were in various states of inebriation, with Charles and Javier holding themselves together well while John and Sean were an absolute mess. Arthur was somewhere in the middle and Dutch seemed near sober. 

“Gentlemen! I do think we should retire for the evening! Now, I have rented us rooms-”

“Rooms?” Arthur cut him off. “I didn’t agree to stayin’ the night in this place!” He seemed to sober up a bit as he spoke and realized Dutch was expecting him to sleep here overnight.

“Arthur-” Javier reasoned. “It’s like two in the morning. It’s way too late to be heading home now. Come, sleep it off and we’ll go in the- Oh fuck Arthur come on!” His train of thought was quickly derailed as Arthur made a mad dash out the door and to his horse. He got a good lead on them and not even Javier with how quick he was could catch him before he hopped up onto his horse and took off.

“Jesus fuck- ARTHUR!” Dutch called after him, his voice cracking as he shouted. Arthur paid him no mind, sprinting onwards. Dutch sighed to himself, holding his head in his hands. “Ok, I’ve got a plan-”

“You always got a plan, Dutch.” John drunkenly stated, earning a sound of approval from his equally wasted ginger associate.

“Yeah, I do. And the current one is for Charles to take your tired asses to bed while Javier and I chase down Mr.Father of the year over there. You got that?” All the men nodded and went their separate ways, as per Dutch’s orders. 

The two men followed as best they could on their horses, with Dutch covering good ground on The Count. Eventually they came upon Arthur’s horse close to home, but he was nowhere to be found. It didn’t take Sherlock Holmes to figure out what had happened, as the man-shaped spot in the dirt, singular boot laying to the side and series of uneven footsteps leading onwards told them all they need to. They rode onwards, hoping to catch Arthur before he got back to the property. And they almost did...almost.

Just as they were pulling up the property he was slamming his fist on the front door of Hosea and Dutch’s shared cabin where the older man was watching Evan. Dutch thanked the lucky stars that Eleanor was sleeping over with Louisa at the Marston’s cabin, because he would have had to kill Arthur for waking up his daughter like that.

Hosea blearily opened the door as Dutch and Javier ran towards the house in an attempt to grab Arthur, but stumbled running up the stairs and missed him. Hosea rolled his eyes, obviously not surprised at all by this turn of events.

“Thought I wouldn’t be seeing you ‘til morning, Arthur.”

“Sorry Hosea, is she sleepin’? He angled his head, trying to look past the man and into the house. He chuckled at his eagerness and patted him on the shoulder. Before he could answer Arthur’s question himself, somebody else answered it for him.

“Daddy!” A small voice called out from the living room, causing Arthur’s eyes to widen as he barrelled past Hosea and into the house. 

“Sweetpea!” Arthur bellowed, sinking to the floor and pulling the baby girl into his lap. He held her close and cuddled her as if he hadn’t seen her in weeks, not hours. “Did you guys hear that?” He turned his head and asked excitedly. “Her first word- she said ‘daddy’! It was her first- right Hosea?”

Hosea nodded. “That it was. I could tell all night she’s had the word on the tip of her tongue, but I guess she was waiting for you to spit it out.” Javier muttered something about going home to see his own kids after that, leaving the three men and the small girl. Dutch and Hosea watched proudly as Arthur cooed and bounced the small girl in his arms. 

“You owe me $20.” Hosea cocked a brow towards Dutch, a smug grin on his face.  Dutch shelled out the cash with a raspy sigh. “I told you he couldn’t stay away for too long.” 


	11. Revelation- Pierres

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tilly's husband, Jean, learns to become part of the group.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is just a weird short lil thing that's been on my mind, sorry it's kind of bad lmao

“There’s nothing to be nervous about- you always worry too much!” Tilly reassured to her husband, Jean, who was yet again fretting about leaving their young children in the care of some of the others. They were set to have a date night, something they tried to do regularly, and left their young daughter Madeline and son Andre in the care of Dutch and Hosea for the evening. Watching the way he wrung his hands and nervously sweat reminded her of Arthur whenever he had to leave his girl for more than five minutes at a time- but he knew the reason wasn’t quite as sincere as him just missing the kids.

It was because of who they were that he always found himself nervous. He loved his wife, dearly, no doubt about that. Even with her criminal past, he knew she had a heart of gold and trusted her with his life. Dealing with the reality of being close to one former outlaw was something he could deal with… but dozens? All in close quarters? It made him… nervous, to say the absolute least.

His life had been quite the righteous one- he always followed the law, never dabbled in anything sinister or devious. Well- more devious than being a _lawyer_ , that is. He had seen some outlaws in his days, sure, but he was usually working to keep them behind bars- not marrying into their extended family. But yet here he found himself about 5 years in with two little ones and living on a shared property with a group of people who used to rob and kill for a living. He couldn’t help but think of all the blood on the hands of the people who held and watched his children.

“I know, my dearest, but…”

“No buts!” She cut him off, reaching out to grip his hand. “They always take good care of Maddie and Andre. Trust me.” And trust her he did- of course he did. She was his whole world.

That marked another date night off without a hitch, as Tilly had expected. But despite how many times they come back to their children in one piece, happy and without having learned any new curse words or bad life lessons, he was _still_ nervous.

But that wasn’t to say he was nervous around everybody- despite his overall trepidations, he had managed to make a few friends around camp besides his wife. Charlotte was the first, as she understood what it was like to lead a normal life before marrying into a gang of former thieves and killers. With her came a solid companionship with Charles as well, considering him to be very just and wise despite his past. Mary-Beth and Kieran were also a couple he found to be absolutely delightful, maybe because it would be hard to guess that they were ever outlaws at all. And the final person he really felt connected to was Lenny- the younger man reminded him a lot of himself, and he wondered where he would have ended up if his father hadn’t been taken from him.

Most of the other members he got along with just fine, he supposed… but he had a specific distrust of Dutch- maybe because he was the leader of the whole thing. Same with Hosea- he definitely trusted the older man more than the namesake Van Der Linde, but not by much. He knew he had a silver tongue to match his hair.

Tilly herself was almost at her wits end trying to quell her husband's nerves. She thought that meeting the gang would help- seeing them as real people, parents and spouses who take care of their families. It did not. Then it was hoping that after the kids were born that he would loosen up. He did not. In fact that probably made everything worse. After watching how hurriedly he went to snatch up his toddlers out of the hands of Dutch and Hosea upon their return, she knew she had to do _something_ to get him more comfortable. So, a few days later she found herself in the company of Charles to ask his advice.

“I just don’t know how to get him to stop being a paranoid freak.” She laughed out, her eyes staring down into the cup of coffee Charles prepared for her. “How did you get Charlotte to acclimate so well? Sometimes I can’t even believe she was never part of the gang to begin with.” He smiled proudly at hearing that- in fact he always looked so proud whenever anybody brought up his wife. It made Tilly’s heart melt a little to see how much he absolutely adored her.

“It wasn’t as easy as you guys all thought.” He responded, taking a sip of his drink before continuing. “She was a lot more hesitant than she let on. She has a good poker face- that’s why she’s been able to play Bill and Pearson for everything they have so many times over.” He chuckles to himself as he remembered how frustrated they got whenever she trumped them at poker, yet always returned to try and best her the next time.

“So how did you get her to loosen up?”

He shrugged. “Nothing. It just… happened. One day she was nervous to be around Javier or Hosea and the next she was joining them for a fishing trip. If I had to guess, I would say it was just getting to know them.” Tilly frowned at this response, obviously not satisfied.

“But he _has_ gotten to know some of you- you yourself, Charlotte, Mary-Beth, Kieran… it ain’t like he doesn’t have friends!”

“You think it might have something to do with the fact that he-”

“Is a lawyer?” She preemptively guessed. He simply nodded, and she sighed. “I guess so. He’s spent his whole life being the good guy, doin’ the right thing. I think a part of him feels like he should turn everybody in…” She saw the way Charles face turned serious at the idea. “But he wouldn’t!” She hurriedly added on so he wouldn’t panic.

“So he feels like he’s betraying his own nature, in a way? Everything he’s ever known.” He asked after a moment of thought. Tilly had to take a moment to think about it herself before concurring.

“That… that makes a lot of sense. But what would I even do about it? How do you just have somebody abandon who they are?”

“You don’t.”

“That’s not very helpful.” He shook his head and laughed at her quick dismissal.

“Yes, it is. You don’t get him to abandon who he is by showing him that these aren’t bad people here, aren’t people he should feel guilty about letting live free. He may look at them with their children, or helping people here and there- but does he really _see_ them?” Tilly quirked a brow at him, not fully understanding the difference. “Just… have him spend the day with Arthur- out and about, in town. That’ll be a good start.”

Despite not quite understanding what he was getting at, she heeded his advice anyways. Charles was one of the most intelligent and dependable people she knew, and she trusted his opinions. So a few days later she found herself asking Arthur to take Jean out for a day with the kids (it was much easier to get Arthur to agree to do anything if he knew he could take Evan along). She wasn’t sure if it would make much of a difference, but she thought it worth the try.

And surprisingly, after that, he seemed… different. Neither man would tell her what went on that day, and that alone was a feat in and of itself- usually Jean was a gossip, relaying anything he heard back to her. But now he had some sort of secret, but could tell it wasn’t anything he was guilty over.

And while he didn’t change overnight, he slowly became more receptive to the people around him- more trusting. One day she came home to him having tea with Hosea and almost cried at the sight. After a few months he was talking and laughing with everybody like he had been there from the start, and she went back to Charles to ask him how the _hell_ he knew to enlist Arthur.

“It was easy.” He smirked. “Arthur just has that effect on people- despite how he looks, so rough, he’s a good man. As undeniable of one as he is of being a career criminal. And that’s what Jean needed to see- that somebody who spent so much of his life being ‘bad’ might not really be himself.”


	12. Number Four- Marstons and Smiths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles and John are both going through a similar struggle watching their children grow up and become more independent

Charles woke up that morning in a good mood. He stretched as the sun shone through the blinds, looking down at his wife who still dozed next to him. She had been up late the night before with some of the other ladies in camp, so he let her sleep. He got dressed and headed downstairs where two of his girls were already awake and getting themselves something to eat, the third asleep on the couch. 

“Cora? Jo? What are you guys doing?” He stood in the doorway of the kitchen, watching them as they moved around and did their thing. 

“Making breakfast, daddy.” Josephine responded simply as she opened a can of peaches on her own. 

“Yeah! It was my idea!” Cora added on, never one to be outshone by her older sister. 

“You guys are making breakfast, all by yourselves?” He quirked a brow, partly impressed and confused. 

“We sure are, daddy!” Cora beamed at him. He was proud to see them taking initiative and doing things for themselves but weren’t they too young to be doing things like this for themselves? Without his help? Apparently not, because when he got a better look at what they had made he saw it was a proper meal, some eggs with a side of fruit and toast. 

“You guys cooked  _ eggs  _ without me or mommy around? Are you ok?” He quickly knelt down and scanned their arms and faces for any burns or other sores, but couldn’t find any. 

“Of course we are. We’re not babies anymore, dad.” Josephine giggled at him. “We even made some for you and mama, but I don’t think she’ll be up for a while.” She mused, remembering how late her mother came home the night before. 

“You made some… for me?” He was incredulous at this point.  _ He  _ was the one supposed to be cooking for  _ them,  _ not the other way around. 

“We sure did! Breakfast for five! Well four, without mommy. Three if OLIVE DOESN’T WAKE UP.” Cora shouted the last part obnoxiously loud in an attempt to wake up her younger sister who dozed on the couch. It worked, and the girl came running in as soon as she smelled that the food was done. They all sat down around the table and started to eat, and Charles was pleasantly surprised to find out the food they made wasn’t half bad. Well his taste buds were pleasantly surprised but he didn’t know if his heart could take it- when did the girls get so independent? He sighed and looked over to Olive, his little baby, only to get hit with that same wave of shock when he saw her cutting her own food. 

“Olive! Sweetheart, do you need me to help with that?” He quickly asked, leaning over the table to try and take the knife from her hands. She jerked back, so he couldn’t reach, shaking her head.

“I’m fine, daddy. I’m not three years old anymore! I’m six! I’m big now, I can cut it.” And that she did, not even injuring herself in the process. Charles felt like he had just been hit by a freight train at that point. He ate the rest of his breakfast in relevant silence while the girls chattered away with each other. Eventually they were done and collected up their plates themselves, looking like tiny little adults as they brought them into the kitchen. Charles quickly followed and stopped them from doing the washing.

“No, no. Allow me. Whoever cooks isn’t supposed to clean the plates as well. I can do it.”

“Well why doesn’t Olive do it?” Josephine asked. “She was asleep the whole time.” Out of the corner of his eye he could see the little girl stick her tongue out at her older sister but decided to not mention it. 

“Olive isn’t tall enough to reach the washbasin properly. Let me handle it girls, please.” They shrugged and agreed, not knowing why their dad was so eager to wash the dishes. In reality he felt like he had to do SOMETHING for them or else be rendered completely useless. Just as he was finishing up he noticed them leaving out the door, and hurried to follow them. “Where are you girls headed?”

“I’m going fishing with Martin and Eleanor. Uncle Javier taught him how and now he’s gonna teach us, although I can’t see Ellie doing much fishing herself.” Josephine explained as she packed up her rod.

“Robert, Maxwell and I are going to try spearfishing! We got our pointy sticks ready and everything! We’re gonna catch the most fish ever!” She hopped excitedly at the thought, obviously eager to enter another competition with her sister that only existed in her mind.

“Olive?” He turned to the last of his girls, hoping she’d say she had nowhere to go so he could volunteer to spend the day with her. 

“Arthur and I are going out to look for cool bugs and pick flowers. He wants to make auntie Abigail a necklace like his brother showed him to!” 

“Well do you need any help? I could help you choose the colours or help you find bugs or-”

“No thank you!” She cut him off abruptly, and sauntered off across camp. He followed her as the older girls ran off towards the lake, and watched as she met up with John’s younger son Arthur who was also being trailed by his father as well. The two little ones skipped off into the brush leaving the two fathers in their dust. 

“Rough morning?” John questioned, seeing how distraught Charles looked. 

“Something like that.”

“Want to talk about it? Been having quite the morning myself.” He nodded in response and the two headed back to John’s cabin, which was also devoid of children. 

“Your kids ditch you, too?” Charles asked as he looked around, and John just grunted in response. “I woke up this morning to the girls making breakfast on their own. I didn’t even tell them to they just… did it. When did they get to be so grown up?”

John laughed. “It sneaks up on ya, that’s for sure. Seems like just yesterday Jack was just this little kid trying so hard to get my attention and now he’s fifteen and barely wants to be around me. Same with Arthur, damn kid spends more time with his uncle Arthur than with me! Guess I earned that, naming him after the guy. Even my girl Louisa ain’t got no time for me no more.” He crossed his arms across his chest like an upset child and leaned back in his chair. 

“Maybe Kieran and Mary-Beth had the right idea, having so many. I thought they were crazy before but now I don’t know.” John quirked a brow up at Charles admittance. 

“You saying you want to have another kid, Smith?” 

“I mean… I don’t know. Kind of, I think. I thought three was the perfect amount but lately I can’t shake the feeling of wanting another baby at home.” He saw the way John smirked at him and rolled his eyes. “Not like you’d understand that, Marston.”

“Who says I don’t?” Charles chuckled at him.

“Yeah right. You wanting another kid? You’re joking, right?” He looked to him like he knew for sure he must be but… John’s face was deathly serious. He awkwardly scratched the back of his head and shrugged, avoiding eye contact. “Wait, seriously? You want to have another baby? What brought that on?”

“I agreed to watch Grace for Mary-Beth yesterday… Had her for about an hour and then had half a mind to just steal her and take her home.” He looked almost embarrassed as he answered, keeping his gaze fixed on his lap. 

“Never pegged you for the type to really like babies all that much.”

“Me neither. I think it’s just… with every kid we had, I feel like I got better as a father. With Jack I was crap. Louisa, I was better- not perfect, but hell I was  _ there _ . And with Arthur I was pretty decent, if I do say so myself. I just feel like… like I’m not done yet, I don’t know. Like Abigail and I are meant to have a fourth, and I can show that I’ve really become a good dad.”  He was smiling as he talked about his family, and how far he had come with them. Charles couldn’t help but smile along with him as he remembered the childish man John used to be, denouncing his parenthood to his young son, in comparison to the family man he was now, talking about how he wanted another child to be able to show how much he’s grown. 

“I’m impressed, John. Didn’t know you were that deep.” He snorted.

“Me neither.” 

Before long they heard Abigail making her way downstairs, dressed but still looking tired. She gave Charles a small wave before pulling up a seat next to her husband.

“Where are the kids?” Was the first thing out of her mouth after she planted a kiss on his cheek. 

“Pretty much everywhere but here, let’s say that.” She let out a sigh.

“They always seem to be out and about these days, don’t they? Feel like they spend more time with their friends than with us.” Realizing this was his in to bring it up, he decided to just go for it. 

“Charles and I were actually talkin’ about how nice it would be to have another baby around the house.” He stated confidently. Abigail narrowed her eyes at him, flickering her gaze between the two men trying to see if there was some joke going on that she wasn’t privy to. Seeing no laughter or held back giggles, she realized he must be serious. Very calmly she stood up and walked to the door, opening it and gesturing outside.

“Could you leave us for a little while, Charles? I hate to be rude but I think my husband and I need to talk about things.” 

“Of course, Abigail. I should probably get home and check on Charlotte anyways. Something I… uh, want to talk about with her as well.” The two men gave each other subtle thumbs up as he left- a wish for good luck with the impending discussions they were going to have with their spouses. 

Upon arriving back at his house Charles could tell his wife was up, as she was sitting out on the front porch. She stood to greet him as he approached, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him when he was close enough. He eagerly returned, enveloping her in a hug as he did so. 

“Missed waking up next to you. Where have you been? Thought maybe you took the girls out without me, but I can tell that’s not the case.” She made a point of looking around dramatically to emphasize the point about their daughters not being with him. 

“I wish I was out with them. Not that I’d ever want to leave you behind, but you should have seen how eager they were to get away from me this morning. Don’t you think they’re growing up fast?” He asked casually at the end, trying to forge the path for the topic he was about to bring up. 

“I mean, I suppose. It’s kind of nice to see them developing their interests though, doing their own thing, don’t you think?” She leaned back to look into his eyes and smile, and his heart melted just as it always did when she smiled at him. 

“Yeah, of course I am. I love to watch them become their own people. But…” He knew he had to get this back on track. “I was talking to John, and got to thinking that it might be nice to have another little person around.” In the same vein as Abigail she scanned his features to see if he was kidding- not that she needed to, it wasn’t like Charles was one for jokes. 

“So… are you telling me you and John are going to have a baby?” She finally said, cracking up. “Well I send you both my congratulations.” She gave him a solid pat on the arm before turning around and heading back in the house. He stood stunned for a moment before running in after her.

“Charlotte, I’m being serious here. I want to have another baby.” He decided to just be as blunt and honest with it as possible in an attempt to avoid any more jokes on her behalf. He closed the distance between them and she turned around to face him. He took the opportunity to grab her hands and hold them gently. 

“You really do? But why? I thought you said three was plenty. Are you suddenly desperate for a son, or something?” 

“I know what I said then, but I was wrong. And no, it isn’t just me wanting a boy. In fact I think I’d prefer another girl, if I’m being honest. I just… I don’t know. I can’t help but shake that feeling of wanting to start over with another one, especially since we had all the girls so close together. It’s been six years since we had a baby around, and we hardly got to enjoy it because we also had a two year old and a one year old. I think another member of our family would be nice.” He absentmindedly traced his thumbs over her hands as he poured his heart out to her. She didn’t say a word or show any type of reaction until he was finished. Then all she did was let out a little laugh.

“I can’t remember the last time I heard you talk this much.” She bit her lip and grinned up at him, and he took that as a cue to lean forward and kiss her again. Things started to get a bit more heated as time get on, his hands leaving hers and instead taking their place on her waist. “How soon did you want to have that fourth kid?”

“As soon as possible.” He said with a sly smirk, and was about to suggest they take their endeavours upstairs when the front door swung open and Cora barged in, drenched from head to toe. 

“Stupid river stupid twins stupid fish stupid sister-” She mumbled angrily to herself, and it didn’t take a genius for the parents to figure out what must have happened. 

“Baby number four might have to wait a while, Mr.Smith. Baby number two needs us.” He nodded in agreement and they both went over to comfort their middle child, still buzzing with the excitement at the thought of expanding their family. He wondered to himself briefly how John’s conversation with Abigail went, although if he had gone anywhere near the cabin he could have heard for himself- luckily their kids didn’t return any time soon. 


End file.
